Closet Monsters
by TheBucketWoman
Summary: A walk home after dark and its aftermath. Most of the usual pairings apply.
1. Chapter 1

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

A/N: I was going to post this rated "T" but I'm paranoid. There is going to be some violence, mostly offstage, and reference to an attempted sexual assault, along with a certain amount of language. So, just in case you've stumbled on this accidentally, I should warn you that if any of these themes upset you unduly, this is not the fic for you.

Part One: Lizzie.

_This has to be a new record_, Lizzie McDonald, 14, thought as she waited for the #20 bus. She'd been waiting for it for about forty minutes.

_Your own stupid fault_, she told herself. _If you'd just started walking twenty minutes ago you'd be home already. _

The problem was, her shoes weren't really made for that. Which was why she'd waited.

She shook her head and started walking. It was 7:00 and just starting to get dark out, and even though nobody was expecting her for dinner, with the parents out of town, and Marti with her Mom, it was starting to get cold and her denim jacket wasn't cutting it.

After three blocks, she was really cursing her decision to wear sandals. This had been the first warm day, and the sandals were cute, so she hadn't been able to resist.

_But_, she decided, _no more sandals ever. The chafing just isn't worth it_._ Damn chafing shoes of evil. _

Around block four, there seemed to be fewer people around as she got further and further away from Walnut street and closer to Elm, where the strip malls ended and the houses started up again.

"Wussup, baby," she heard behind her. She walked the tiniest bit faster, trying not to look intimidated.

"I said 'wussup'. What's your problem?" the voice said. "I'm talking to _you_—in the flowery thing. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?"

_Because yelling at random people in the street is the height of class_, she thought. _This is why I don't wear dresses. The creeps come out of the woodwork._ She could see the guy's shadow, walking exactly as fast as she was. Running was an impossibility in those shoes, so she hung a right.

Smelly Nellie's was only three blocks away. _Maybe if I bug Derek, he'll lend me enough for a cab._ The blocks that surrounded the little restaurant were lit better than this one anyway.

She got half a block—as far as the New Lotus Chinese takeout place before the guy grabbed her.

Part Two: Derek.

There was a yuppie type at table four grumbling about the black hole that must have swallowed the veggie wrap he ordered because it certainly wasn't in front of him. His date kept shooting apologetic looks at Derek, who'd taken the order, her face saying, "Don't worry, he _will_ be punished."

But Derek wasn't a worrier. The damn veggie wrap would be ready when it was ready; really he had no control over it. He was happy to smile, apologize for the delay (even though he'd only ordered it five minutes ago) and accept whatever jingling change the asshole decided to leave for a tip. Just as long as he went away in a timely manner.

The guy was just lucky that Derek wasn't one to spit in people's food. He was thinking of this while giving the old lady at table five extra whipped cream. She came in every other day for chocolate, occasionally cappuccino, and a brownie. And she tipped 25 percent. He winked at her and she winked back right before his cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket.

"'Scuse me, Mrs. Lieberman," Derek said. "Be right back with that brownie."

"I'll be here," she said.

He walked toward the prep area and flipped his phone open.

"Yeh-llo," he said.

"Is this Derek Venturi?" a female voice said.

"Yeah," he said. "Who's this?"

"I'm calling from Mercy Hospital, Mr. Venturi. I need to know if you are a relative of Elizabeth McDonald?" the voice said.

"Mr. Venturi?" the voice asked.

"My stepsister," he answered. He heard Pablo ring the bell and say that the asshole's veggie wrap was up.

"Mr. Venturi, we were unable to reach your parents, so we will need you to come to the emergency room so that we can release her to you."

"Sally!" Pablo yelled ringing the bell again for emphasis. "Veggie wrap and Portobello burger to table four!"

"That's Derek's—" Sally began as she walked over to the kitchen. She glanced at Derek and paused. Then she picked up his orders without another word.

"What happened?" Derek asked.

"We can explain better face to face, Mr. Venturi, but as I said, we can release her as soon as you can get here. And she asks that you bring a change of clothes, if possible."

"Um" Derek said. "A change of clothes?"

"Yes sir, a full change, and shoes."

"I'll be right there," Derek said. As the assistant manager on duty, he was supposed to be closing tonight, which meant that he was supposed to be there for a good hour and a half more, but that so clearly was not going to happen. He looked around the prep room, then back toward the kitchen.

"Do you need to go?" Sally asked.

Derek nodded.

"So go," Sally said. "I'll get Bobby to cover you."

He babbled some stuff about punching out and getting Mrs. Leiberman's brownie, but Sally gave him a light push toward the lockers in back.

"I got it," Sally said. "Just go."

He drove the few blocks to the empty house and ran directly upstairs, flicking on lights as he went. He tripped several times and knocked a few things over, but he didn't notice. The next day there would be a huge purple bruise on his right shin and he would wonder where it came from. He walked directly into Lizzie's closed door before he thought to use the knob.

He opened random drawers, pulling articles of clothing out. Casey really would've been better at this. He didn't know what to take. He pulled out some sweatpants, some sneakers, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, stuffing them into the first bag that his hand touched, a tote bag with the World Wildlife Federation logo on it. He headed out of her room, then he remembered that the nurse or whoever had told him to bring a_ full _change of clothes.

Which might mean underwear.

Pulling out the top drawer of Lizzie's dresser felt like the single grossest invasion of privacy he could think of. He wasn't exactly a stranger to women's underwear, having seen Casey in it (and on a few memorable occasions, out of it) and he used to change Marti's diapers, but _Lizzie's_ stuff felt like none of his business.

But if she needed it, he'd bring it.

He didn't let himself wonder why she'd need it, because if he had, he wouldn't have been able to drive. As it was, he cursed at every red light and every other car that had the misfortune to be on his road the whole way to the hospital. But he managed to get there in one piece.

He parked in the emergency lot and made a run for the entrance, bag in hand. He swished through the sliding doors and went for the receptionist's desk, and finding nobody behind the protective glass, he rang the bell.

"Lizzie McDonald," he said, as soon as the nurse appeared. She was about his mom's age, and looked completely calm. That alone made him want to scream at her.

Even though she clearly didn't know what to make of him. _Get with the freakin program, lady_, he thought.

"My stepsister," he clarified. "Was brought in here. I need to pick her up?"

"Okay," she said. "Okay. We spoke on the phone." She held up one finger and left her station.

He didn't wait to see where she was going. He swished through the next set of automatic doors, the ones marked "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT."

"Hey!" the nurse said.

She grabbed his arm just as he started to move a little faster. He shrugged it off, but it slowed him down enough for her to get his attention.

"I was coming to get you," she said. "Don't you think it would be easier if I took you to her?"

He stopped.

"That's better," she said. "Now, take a breath."

He rolled his eyes. This woman's one mission in life seemed to be to waste time.

"I mean it," she said.

"Can you just show me where my sister is?" he said. He didn't notice that he left the "step" part out. She didn't bring it up.

"Mr. Venturi," she began. Then she looked at the name tag that he still wore. "Derek. You have every right to be frantic right now. We both know this, okay? But you really need to calm down before you go see her."

"What happened to her?" Derek asked.

"Dr. Bilson was her physician," she said. "She will be able to answer whatever questions you have."

She led him down a corridor. "Jennifer," she called.

A middle aged brunette turned around.

"This is Lizzie McDonald's stepbrother," she said.

"Okay, great," Dr. Bilson said. She smiled at Derek. "Thank you, Mandy."

The nurse left them alone as Dr. Bilson led Derek to a cubicle.

"She's okay," the doctor began. "She has some scrapes, some bruises, possibly some muscle strain, that she'll feel in the morning. There was an altercation."

"You're telling me that she got into a fight?" Derek asked.

"In a manner of speaking," she said. "Your stepsister was attacked tonight."

She led him to a nearby chair before he had a chance to hit the floor.

"Attacked!" Derek said. "Define 'attacked.'"

"Mr. Venturi," she began. "Derek. Listen to me. She is shaken up—"

"Yeah, calm down," Derek said. "Everybody wants me to calm down. I get it."

For a second it seemed like he would.

He got up and kicked over a plastic trash bin.

Dr. Bilson bent down and righted the bin, adjusting the lid, and returning the styrofoam container that had fallen out like she did this every day.

"Okay?" she asked.

"No," he said, a little guiltily.

"A little less likely to climb the walls in her presence?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It's plastic," she said.

She led him to an exam room and opened the door to reveal a large male cop who was busily scribbling in a note pad as a female one looked on. The woman had her hand on Lizzie's shoulder.

"What is this?" Derek asked.

"Derek—" Lizzie began.

"You're _questioning_ her?" Derek squeaked. He moved toward her.

"Sir," the female cop said, holding him at arm's length and looking to the doctor for an explanation.

"He's the stepbrother," Dr. Bilson explained.

"We're taking your stepsister's statement," the male cop explained. "She's not under arrest."

"Jesus," Derek said. He crouched down on level with the bed and tried to hug her.

"Ow," Lizzie said. "Ow, ow, ow."

"Shit," Derek said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Won't happen again. Kick my ass later." He stood up and suddenly had no idea what to do with his hands. They went into his hair, then he tried stuffing them into pockets.

He crouched down again. "This just isn't your day, is it?" he asked. One of her eyes was swollen, that side of her face scraped. Her elbow and both knees had band-aids on them, and when he had stood over her, he caught a glimpse of her back, which was mostly purple.

Her mouth was a little swollen, but her lip was unsplit, and she managed to crack a smile.

"You're an idiot," she said.

"So they tell me," Derek said, smiling back a little.

"Jesus Christ, who did this to you?" he said after a minute.

"The alleged assailant is being processed as we speak," the male cop said. "From his hospital bed. See, Miss McDonald was able to effectively disable the perpetrator before any further injury could occur."

"Disable?" Derek asked.

"She tells us that she has a purple belt in _Taekwondo_." The female cop said.

"Yeah," Derek said.

His eyes widened as he put two and two together.

"You beat the crap out of the guy, didn't you?" Derek asked.

It was the wrong thing to say. Lizzie burst into tears.


	2. Chapter 2

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Two

Part One: Derek.

"Oh no, don't do that," Derek said, as Lizzie started keening a little. She covered her mouth to stifle the noise she was making. He tried to think of a place where it seemed safe to touch her. He put a hand on her head and kissed the unmarked side of her forehead. She leaned against him and he put an arm around her.

"This okay?" he asked. "Lemme know if it hurts."

"S'okay," Lizzie said. Derek thought that if she could have buried herself in his shirt, she would have.

"Can I take her home?" Derek asked.

"Soon as she's ready," Dr. Bilson said. "Is there anything else you need, officers?"

"No, I think we're done," the male cop said. "This is a very brave young lady."

"Truly," Dr. Bilson said.

Lizzie cried a little harder. Derek shot them a "don't help" look.

"Take all the time that you need," Dr. Bilson said. "I'm nearby if you need me, otherwise, stop by the desk and Mandy will get you all set up to go home."

After she left, Lizzie took the bag Derek brought and pulled out her clothes. She closed the little curtain, but wouldn't let him leave the room as she changed out of the hospital gown. Then he led her out, picking up the paperwork for Nora to fill out later.

He told Lizzie to wait at the entrance, that he'd bring the car around, but she followed him through the lot. He unlocked her door and she climbed in. She fastened her seatbelt with some difficulty, but he didn't notice her struggling until the second before she snapped the belt into place. The little Casey that lived inside his brain berated him for not helping her.

After he climbed into the driver's seat, he remembered that his phone, which he'd turned off at the behest of the fifty-odd signs in the hospital, was still off. Once he turned it back on, he found several texts and voicemails waiting for him.

"Here we go," he said to Lizzie. He started the car and let it warm up for a couple of minutes while he read through the texts.

He groaned.

"What?" Lizzie asked.

"Well," Derek began. "According to these, Casey's at Smelly Nellie's. Sally told her I ran outta there like somebody'd tried to feed me the hummus or something." He looked over to see if Lizzie smiled. When she didn't, he went on. "So neither of them knows what's going on, and Casey's yelling at Sally because I'm not there to yell at. So we have to go over there so they can both yell at me. And so I can lock up, because I have the keys to the place."

"I'm sorry," Lizzie said.

"Why?" Derek asked. "What'd you do?"

She shook her head. He thought she might cry again.

"You're gonna get in trouble," she said.

_Huh?_ Derek thought. _Who gives a fuck? _

"Lizzie," Derek said. "If you start worrying about me getting in trouble, you'll never get another night's sleep. I'm _always_ in trouble. It's my default position."

"It's my fault," Lizzie said.

_Oh crap_, Derek thought; his stomach, which had only recently begun to climb back to it's original position, dropped again.

"_What_'s your fault?" Derek asked, pulling out onto the street. "Nothing's your fault. _You_ didn't do anything wrong. And anyway, I'm not in trouble. Can't get in trouble for something like this. And if I was in trouble, it really wouldn't matter because you're more important. So don't worry about it. We're gonna go meet Casey so she and Sally can yell at me and hover over you. Sorry bout that. Maybe we can talk Pablo into some hot chocolate for you while I lock up."

It was a short drive to Smelly Nellie's. Lizzie sat quietly, toying with the strap to her purse, which Derek hadn't realized she'd still had. Then again, he realized, even if the creep had gotten it, she would've been able to get it back after she beat him up. The thought made him smile a little. As they pulled into the almost empty parking lot, he pointed out the Davises' station wagon. That meant that Emily was in there, too.

"Looks like there's one more mother hen for you," Derek said.

They got inside the closed restaurant and everybody saw Lizzie's face. There was a flurry of "Oh my Gods." Casey and Emily descended on Lizzie and, at first, Casey was a little oblivious to Lizzie's yelp of pain when she hugged her.

Derek's mental Casey got on his ass once again for allowing it.

"Guys!" he yelled. It was mostly ignored. But Casey, after her initial delayed reaction, realized that she was hurting her sister and backed off. She and Emily led Lizzie over to a chair, as their "Oh my God's" slowly turned to "Don't worries" and "It's gonna be okays."

Derek looked up to see both Pablo and Sally standing off to the side, staring at the spectacle, big-eyed. Pablo, who was thirty years old and tattooed, who had, on one memorable occasion, bench-pressed Derek, had the most hilariously Casey look of nervousness on his face.

Sally waved Derek over and they both peppered him with questions as they headed into the kitchen. He answered them as best he could, and it turned out to be just enough information for Sally to ask if Lizzie'd been raped.

She'd asked this in a whisper, so that Casey and Emily wouldn't overhear, so it was a bit jarring when Derek said "_NO_!" at near top volume.

Everybody turned to look at him.

"Sorry," he said. Then he turned back to Sally and Pablo. "No, the cops said she fought the guy off. In fact, they kinda hinted that she did more than that."

They both waited for him to elaborate.

"She does _Taekwondo_. I've seen her break boards with her feet," Derek said. "I personally hope that the guy's balls are stuck somewhere near his lungs. They'll find em when he coughs em up."

"Damn right," Pablo said. He went over to a rack and pulled out the double boiler.

"What're you doing?" Derek asked.

"Sally, hook me up with a block of the semi-sweet?" Pablo asked. Then he turned back to Derek. "We ain't wasting our time with that powdered chocolate crap. Baby's getting the _real_ stuff. Why don't you you go get the cream?"

"Thanks, Pablo," Derek said.

"What," Pablo said. "Did you think _you_ were getting any?"

Part Two: Casey.

Casey barely blinked as Lizzie told her about what happened. Both she and Em were smart enough to know that Lizzie was only going to give them the _Cliff Notes_ version and that they'd have to wait until some time had passed to get any further details.

So far she told them that the guy had followed her, dragged her into an alley, tore her jacket and popped the strap off of her dress, knocked her against a wall.

"I broke his nose," Lizzie continued. "And then...he kept c-coming, so I...kicked him."

"Good," Emily said.

"The ambulance took him and the _cops_ took me to the hospital," Lizzie said. "I though they were going to arrest me."

"Give you a medal, more like," Emily said.

Lizzie clearly didn't think so. She actually seemed to feel guilty about stopping some creep from—Casey blocked out the word. Casey wanted to cry and break something. Then cry some more. But she held it together for the moment.

"Well, what did the cops say?" Casey asked.

"That she was brave," Derek cut in. He gracelessly plunked a basket of leftover donuts and stuff onto the table. Then he handed Lizzie an icepack in a towel.

"Chocolate's coming," he said.

"Where's _Edwin_?" Casey wondered aloud.

Derek smacked his forehead. "Shit," he said.

"He went bowling,didn't he?" Lizzie said.

"Yep, and I was supposed to pick him up twenty minutes ago," Derek said.

Derek took out his phone and dialed. "Eeeddd!" he said into the phone. "How's my favorite little brother?"

Casey rolled her eyes even as she lost control of the corners of her mouth.

"Well, that's just a technicality, li'l bro," Derek said. "So yeah, I'm running late."

Derek looked around the room as though it held the answer to Edwin's questions.

"Something..." Derek said. "Came up." He grimaced.

Then he seemed to gather himself. "Okay, listen, Ed. You listening? Okay. Yeah, something happened. Everything's gonna be okay, but..."

"No, Ed, I didn't burn the restaurant down," Derek said, shaking his head in exasperation. "This is actually kinda serious..."

They listened as Derek gave Edwin the quickest possible breakdown of the situation, promising a better explanation later. He repeated, no less than three times, the fact that Lizzie was here with them, that she was okay, and that he'd see her in a few minutes.

"No, uh-uh, stay there," Derek said. "Emily will come pick you up." He raised his eyebrows at Emily, who nodded.

Casey couldn't believe how well Derek was handling this. They really hadn't had to deal with many crises so far, thank God, and this really blew the mess that was Aunt Fiona's wedding reception out of the water. And he was being so calm. Derek didn't do calm. What he did usually involved screaming and flailing. Like Kermit the Frog.

There was a short horn honk from outside and everybody jumped.

"Shit," Sally said. "Patrick. Sorry you guys."

_Honk the horn at her. Real classy_, Casey thought. Even Max, her ex and the single worst boyfriend on God's Green Earth had always come to the door.

Then, as if reading her thoughts, Patrick knocked at the door. Sally poked her head out and started to explain that she would be a few more minutes.

"Why don't you just go home," Derek said. "I think we're okay here."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," Derek said, smiling a little. "Now get lost."

"Okay," Sally said. "Lemme just get my stuff."

Patrick took a step in and closed the door behind him, not seeing any reason to keep out. Derek had described him as a knuckle dragger with an IQ of...a paramecium, Casey thought it was (she'd made Derek spell paramecium after he'd said it). So Casey wasn't expecting him to be the most observant of beasts, but his eyes went right to Lizzie and he made a bee-line over to their table. He crouched by the table, looking a little like he was about to propose marriage.

"Guy tried to mug me," Lizzie downplayed. She reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone, which was in two pieces. "Broke my phone. Didn't get my wallet, though."

Nobody indicated that that was anything less than the truth.

"Jesus! Did you call the police?" Patrick asked. "Go to the hospital? Get checked out?"

All this before he even had the faintest idea who they all were.

Pablo came out of the kitchen with a thermos and small stack of take-out cups, stepping over Patrick to place it on the table. He patted Patrick on the head.

"Thanks, Pablo," Casey said.

"You didn't have to," Lizzie said.

"'Course I did," Pablo said. "Can't help it. I'm a sucker for a pretty face, and ya know, when _three_ show up...I guess I just lose my mind."

Casey and Emily smiled weakly, and Lizzie managed to blush a little. Pablo had a talent for that type of thing. Casey remembered it from her brief time working there. Even when she'd dropped a tub full of dishes and he'd kicked her out of the kitchen, he'd managed to make her laugh while doing it.

"Sexual harassment, Pablo," Sally said as she came back into the room.

"_They_ don't work here," Pablo said.

As he stood up again, something finally occurred to Patrick.

"I'm Patrick, by the way," he said. Casey, Lizzie, and Emily introduced themselves.

Sally laughed at him. Derek comically rolled his eyes.

"Raised in a barn," Derek muttered.

"Kiss my barn-raised ass," Patrick said.

Emily snorted, and both Patrick and Derek cracked up. Patrick held out his hand to shake and got pulled into a boy-hug. Patrick's immediate concern for Lizzie had raised him several rungs up the evolutionary ladder in Derek's eyes.

Sally said her goodbyes, told Lizzie not to let Derek near her chocolate and began to drag Patrick away. She said something to Derek about taking his shift for the next day. He was needed at home, she said.

"How bout this," Sally said, when Derek tried to argue. "You show your face here tomorrow, you're ending up in the pot pie, right Pablo?"

"Mental note," Pablo said as he let them out. "Mark down the pot pie."

"I thought _I_ was in charge here," Derek called.

"We know how happy it makes you to pretend," Sally said.

"Come on, Liz," Emily said, grabbing the thermos and the pastry. "Let's get you home. And pick us up some Edwin on the way."

Lizzie nodded and got up to follow her out.

"Why don't you go with them, Case?" Derek said. "No need to hang out here."

"Um," Casey said. As much as she wanted to keep an eye on Lizzie, she knew that Derek shouldn't be alone at this point, either.

"We're okay," Emily said. Lizzie nodded.

"Are you sure?" Casey asked.

"Yes, Mom," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. She hugged both of them as best she could, thanked Pablo again and left.

Pablo put the last three chairs on top of the table and he and Derek called it a night.

"You don't have money to count or anything?" Casey asked.

"Sally and Phil took care of it," Pablo said. "Like, an hour ago. No worries, Mami. All your boy needs to do is lock the door. And I for one would appreciate it if he did so while I'm still young and cute."

"Which would make us _really_ behind schedule," Derek said.

"It's gonna be some hairy, scrawny pot pie tomorrow," Pablo threatened as Derek held the door open for him and Casey.

He finally locked the door behind him and pulled the gate down, locking that, too.

Derek seemed a little surprised when Casey grabbed him as he was turning around.

"Oh my God, Derek," she murmured into his shoulder. He smelled a little bit like fried onions from having run in and out of the kitchen for most of his shift. She was always surprised at how that didn't bother her.

"It's okay," he answered.

"No it's not," Casey said. "Not yet. But you did so well. How did you stay so damn _calm_? I would've fallen to pieces and made everything worse. You're amazing."

She said all of this without picking her head up, so she wasn't entirely sure that he understood it all. She was encouraged by the way his arms closed around her.

"Are you okay?" she said, finally pulling back a little and looking at him.

"Huh?" he said. "Yeah. You?"

"No," Casey said. "Hello? When am I ever okay? I'm just sorta in between fits, and nothing even happened to _me_! My silly ass was watching this total waste of celluloid with Emily. It was so not worth turning my phone off, and the hospital called me and I didn't get the message. The _one time_ someone needs me..."

"Casey," Derek said.

"I know, I know," Casey said. "Shut up, Casey!"

"I learned years ago that you never shut up," Derek said.

"Does everything have to be a joke with you?" Casey asked.

"Kinda?" Derek said.

"It's okay for you to be upset, too, you know," Casey said.

"Yep," Derek said.

"You've been really great," Casey said. "I'm so proud of you. Do you know that?"

"Uh-huh," Derek said. "Are you getting in the car tonight?"

"Fine," Casey said. "You want to avoid your feelings, I can't stop you."

"CASEY," Derek said. "Can we please just go home without you trying for your _Good Will Hunting_ moment?"

_Now would be the time to shut up for real_, Casey told herself. She took a deep breath and got into the car.

"Thank you," Derek said, climbing into the driver's seat and shutting the door.

Casey reached over and clicked her seatbelt into place.

"What?" she said as she noticed Derek watching her.

He got back out of the car, slamming the door behind him. She saw him double over before she undid her seatbelt again and got out of the car.

There was a sound that she initially thought was dry heaving. She came around the back of the car, preparing herself for the site of puke (the things she did for love), but then she understood that he wasn't throwing up. His face was a scary red, even in the light from the parking lot. Watching her boyfriend actually break down and start to cry, it occurred to Casey that there really was a first time for everything. It was also pretty obvious that he wasn't too keen on having any of this witnessed. Even by her. _Especially_ by her.

_Too bad_, she thought. When she tried to touch him, he shook her off, but she didn't give up and after two or three more tries, _he_ gave up and cried on her shoulder like a normal person.

She reached into her jacket pocket and came up with some napkins from the movie theater. She always seemed to pull out too many, but they usually served some kind of purpose. She handed them off to Derek who, after a certain amount of honking and snorting, seemed to collect himself.

Sort of. For a second.

"Fuck!" he said, slamming a fist into the car's hood. "Ow."

He shook his hand out and then rubbed it.

"Lemme see," Casey said, pulling at his wrist. She looked it over, checking for cuts, and found nothing.

"We really should have hauled ass home, you know," Derek said. "I knocked over a whole bunch of stuff before. When I went to pick up her clothes? The place probably looks like—"

"The last time you couldn't find your iPod?" Casey asked.

"Naw," Derek said. "Not _that_ bad."

She kissed him suddenly enough to make him go "mmph." It seemed to be her day for making sudden moves. She hoped that she didn't end up doing it around Lizzie.

Derek's phone rang. He broke the kiss and looked at the display, taking a deep breath before he flipped it open.

"Dad," he said. "Yeah. No, she's okay. It's under control. For now. No, her phone's broken. Try Edwin. Or maybe they're home by now. Emily has them."

There was a moment where Derek couldn't get a word in. George was clearly yelling at him; she could hear him, could even make out a word here and there.

Casey motioned for the phone. Derek shook his head, but his concentration was off, so she was able to grab it away from him.

"George!" she yelled into the phone. "What the hell are you yelling at?"

"Yelling?" George yelled. "Crap, I _was_ kinda yelling. Sorry."

"That's okay," Casey said. She told George what had happened pretty much the same way Derek had explained it to Edwin. She played up how Derek had come to get Lizzie at the hospital, how he'd done everything right, while she herself had been at the movies.

"You should be proud of him, actually," Casey said.

"Yeah," George said. "I usually am. I'm just going off half cocked the way your mother told me not to do."

"Yeah, well I sorta did that to him, too, before I knew what had happened," Casey said. She looked over at Derek who had climbed back into the driver's seat and was presently studying the Prince's dirty head liner.

"Looks like we both owe him pretty big," Casey said.

Derek shot her a dirty look.

"Yeah," George said. "I can tell it's gonna cost me. Why don't you put him back on?"

"Get in the caaarrrr," Derek moaned. "Can we get out of this parking lot before I'm forty?"

Casey handed the phone back to Derek and went around to the passenger side, climbing in as Derek said goodbye to George.

"They're on the way back," Derek said. Casey nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement or offense intended.

Chapter Three.

Part One: Emily.

Edwin was waiting right outside the doors of the bowling alley and he'd gotten across the sidewalk and into the backseat in what looked like three steps.

He immediately had his arms around Lizzie and their foreheads pressed together. Emily watched through the rear-view mirror as he whispered that he loved her and how scared he'd been and what would he do without her and then kissed her which seemed to be what she needed.

Emily pretended to have seen none of this, of course, and after nagging Edwin about his seatbelt, she pulled into traffic and started to drive them home.

At some point, Nora had called Edwin's phone. He handed it off to Lizzie, who'd cried a little more, understandably.

_Well if there was ever a bigger I want my Mommy moment, no one's heard about it yet_, Emily thought. Truth be told, she was starting to want _her_ Mommy.

Of course, Lizzie had another attack of guilt after she hung up the phone.

"Is there anyone _else's_ weekend I can ruin?" Lizzie said. "Like if I really tried?"

"It's not your fault," Edwin said, not that Lizzie was necessarily listening. He said it once and let her vent some more. He kept a hand on her at all times, usually just holding her hand, but once or twice in her hair or on the unhurt side of her face.

"You didn't ruin anything, Liz," Emily said.

"See?" Edwin said. "That's what I mean. And you know Emily doesn't go along with my bullshit, so you know it's true, right?"

Watching Edwin properly take care of Lizzie made Emily want her Sheldon in addition to her Mommy, but she decided that at least someone should be allowed to get some sleep.

Emily pulled into the driveway and found her mother sitting on the steps, as expected.

The first words out of the woman's mouth were: "So you guys want some soup?"

Emily stared at her.

"What?" her Mom said.

Emily shook her head. She could see her father wink at her from the bay window and turn back into the living room.

The two of them followed Lizzie and Edwin into the house.

"Okay, so I've been deputized," Mom said when they settled in the kitchen. "Nora called and asked me to hover until she and George can get here."

"Guess we can't throw that party then, huh?" Edwin said.

She hadn't been kidding about the soup. She really did bring it over. Em's Mom kept a few cans of the condensed chicken crap on hand, "in case of emergencies." Normally, she didn't allow the kids to eat stuff like that. It was too salty, too fatty, a shade of yellow that no one should ever ingest, but nothing else did the trick if someone was sick or hurt.

She threw one can on the heat right away, then Lizzie said that she didn't want any, so she held off on opening the other can. Edwin could always eat, so she gave most of it to him and a little to Emily herself. They watched Lizzie in case she suddenly took an interest in the soup, but she didn't.

Part Two: Edwin.

"Do you want a soda, Liz?" Edwin asked, his head in the fridge.

"No thanks," Lizzie said, staring at her hands on the table.

"You sure?" Edwin asked.

"Uh-huh," Lizzie said without looking up.

He straightened up. "How bout a milkshake?"

"NO," Lizzie said finally looking up at him. "And close the fridge door already!"

"'Kay," Edwin said.

Edwin took this as a good sign. The hovering was getting to her, which at least meant that she might stop apologizing.

"Sorry," Lizzie said, head down again.

Or not.

Lizzie was pretty tough, but she wasn't exactly Lizzie the Lionhearted. They all knew this. Even the mildest of horror movies creeped her out for days, but this cowering thing was not _her_.

He downed his soda while the silence stretched to the point where the bubbling of his root beer filled the room. Emily did something to her fingernails while her mother picked at some loose threads on a dishrag.

Edwin belched, both because he needed to and to break the silence.

"Compliments to the chef?" Edwin said.

"I'm honored," Emily's Mom, Linda, deadpanned.

Emily laughed, shaking her head. Lizzie continued to study her hands. In the fluorescent lights, Edwin could see that they were a little bruised and scraped.

"Do you need some ice for that?" Edwin asked, reaching for her hand.

"_No_, Edwin," Lizzie said, pulling her hands back. "I'm just gonna go to bed."

"'Kay," Edwin said. "G'nite?"

"Whatever," Lizzie said.

Edwin exchanged a nervous grin with Emily. Edwin more often than not got a good night kiss from Lizzie before they went to bed, but he knew better than to even try for one tonight.

It wasn't too much longer before Derek and Casey finally got home. Both of them wanted to know where Lizzie was, or course.

"She's upstairs," Linda said. "Said she was going to bed."

Derek immediately headed for the stairs.

"Don't you think you might give her a little...I guess not," Edwin said to Derek's back.

Part Three: Lizzie.

Derek had left her dresser drawers and the closet door wide open, so the first thing she did when she came into her room was close them all. She tried to resist the temptation to flick the light on in her closet to check for—whatever hid in the closet, take your pick—but in the end she not only turned on the light but moved stuff around, as though closet monsters or crappy eighties movie demons hid behind her shoeboxes. She also checked under the bed, her heart pounding.

This was really pathetic. Even Marti didn't worry about stuff like this anymore. Sometimes she pretended she did to get Derek or Edwin to make an extra fuss over her, but she wasn't really afraid.

Meanwhile, her fish hadn't eaten since that morning, so she busied herself feeding them and checking the ph balance in the water.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said to the fish. "Don't look at me like that. It wasn't exactly my idea to be out this late."

She sat on the edge of her bed and watched them for a little while. Usually, she could watch them for a while and it would be better than TV. Sometimes they'd follow her back and forth as she went from her desk to the closet or her closet to the bed. She told stories about her fish the way people tell stories about their cats.

So why were they creeping her out tonight?

_Is this the way it's going to be_, she thought. _Are you gonna be crazy now? You just checked your closet for monsters, for God's sake. You've lost your mind. _

_You're gonna get over this, and you're gonna get over it right now. Nobody has time for this bullshit, least of all you, so just freakin go to sleep like you were going to and you'll be okay in the morning._

She turned on the radio for a little company and put her beside lamp on so that she could turn off the overhead.

She'd just taken off her shoes and lain on top of the comforter when there was a knock on the door.

"What?" she said.

Derek poked his head in.

"How you doing?" he asked.

"I _was_ trying to go to bed," Lizzie said to the ceiling, not knowing why she was being so bitchy.

"Okay," Derek said. "That's cool."

"Glad I have your permission," Lizzie said, facing him.

Derek had been about to say something. His mouth stayed open for a second. Then he shut it and Lizzie thought, _Here it comes. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut?_

"I was just gonna say that there's like a bunch of people in the house right now, so if you need anything, just yell, 'kay?" Derek said. He was using this tone of voice on her, she was sure he was trying to be soothing, but Derek didn't do soothing. He did panic-stricken and squeaky.

"Okay?" he repeated.

"Fine," Lizzie said.

"And the 'rents will be back soon," Derek said.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. She was starting to rethink this position she was lying in. Her back did not like it at all, but rolling over could be worse.

"So you pretty much want everybody to leave you alone for now?" Derek asked.

_No,_ she thought. _I most certainly do not want to be left alone with the angry fish and the closet monsters. No, of course not!_

"Yes," she said.

"Okay," Derek said. "If you change your mind—"

"I _get_ it, Derek," Lizzie said, way testier than she'd wanted to.

"Okay," Derek said. "Night."

_So not only are you crazy,_ Lizzie told herself. _You're also a really bad person. In addition to rupturing someone's balls when you probably could've gotten away after you broke the dude's nose, you just beat up on your utterly harmless stepbrother. How bout we find some little kids and pop their balloons; how's that sound? _

Part Four: Derek.

Casey came up the stairs just as Derek closed Lizzie's door.

"How'd it go?" she whispered.

Before he could answer, they both heard sobbing.

Casey opened Lizzie's door and barged right in. Lizzie was sitting up again with her back to them. Casey came around the bed and sat next to her, putting an arm around Lizzie and pulling her close.

Once again, Derek thought that this was something that he probably should have thought to do. He stood in her doorway wondering what to do next, hoping the answer could be found in the pattern on her rug. He turned around and got a box of tissues from the bathroom. He hovered around the bed, tissues in hand, wondering if someone could be less than useless.

Casey looked up and cocked her head to beckon him closer. He obeyed and handed her the box. Then he sat down gingerly on Lizzie's other side. If she wanted to throw him out, she could, but he'd hang out here until she did. He tried to busy himself by pushing her hair out of her face. He couldn't really think of anything else to do.

The third stair from the top squeaked, which meant that someone, probably (hopefully) Edwin, was coming up.

Ed showed none of the hesitation that Derek had. Derek got up from Lizzie's bed and Edwin took his place.

"Hey," Edwin said. When Lizzie looked up, he turned his humongous eyes on her. He somehow managed to look calm during all of this; Derek made a mental note to ask for lessons in how to do that later.

Lizzie moved from Casey's shoulder to Edwin's, burying her head in the crook of his neck. Lizzie had been starting to calm down a little before Edwin had come in, but his presence helped to steady her more.

Derek thought that Edwin just had that kind of face.

_As long as somebody can do something, it'll be okay_, Derek thought. _Right guys? _He thought, looking at Lizzie's fish. They seemed to be watching the proceedings. It was a little creepy.

"I'm gonna be right back," Derek said. Casey nodded. He went down to the kitchen in search of some water. He ran into Emily and Linda in there. He'd totally forgotten about them.

"How's it going up there?" Emily asked.

"I guess she's okay," Derek said. "She's surrounded anyway. I'm just—"

"Getting the hell outta there for a minute?" Linda said.

Derek was ashamed enough without Linda Davis's Spidey Sense calling him out.

"It's okay to want to take a break, you know," Linda said.

"If you say so," Derek said. "I'm really only getting water."

He started filling a plastic pitcher from the tap. He pulled some ice trays out of the freezer and emptied them into the pitcher. Emily grabbed them before he could put them back empty.

"Have a seat for a minute," Linda said.

Derek shook his head even as he sat down. "I really need to get back upstairs," he said, though he really couldn't think why. He felt very much in the way upstairs.

"Think of it like recharging your batteries," Emily said. "Getting a second wind?"

"Sure," Derek said. "As soon as the first wind kicks in, we can deal with the second wind."

"You're doing okay," Emily said.

"I'm making a mess," Derek said.

Linda puttered around the kitchen. Derek couldn't focus long enough to see what she was doing, but after a couple of minutes, she put a mug of coffee in front of him. He thanked her, dumped a bunch of sugar and milk into it and took a huge, grateful swig. It was probably not the best thing for him, as jittery and nervous as he was already, but at the same time it was just what he needed.

Both women laughed at the way he was holding the mug with both hands and drinking it like a toddler with a sippy cup. He didn't much care because his hands were cold and this nice warm coffee was making him inordinately happy.

Part Five: Linda.

Linda Davis looked down at Derek as he did his best to set up housekeeping in his coffee mug. It was hard to reconcile this sweet, overprotective kid with the peony smashing, pool trespassing, birdbath destroying hellion that she used to know. She used to live in fear that Emily's crush on him would be requited because he was such a monster. Well, okay, monster was a little strong, but he was definitely someone who did stuff first and thought later, and that could be dangerous. Even Jerry, her husband, knew that Derek didn't have a mean bone in his body, but that didn't make him less tempted to send Emily to boarding school to keep her away from him.

"Let him knock someone else's daughter up," Jerry had said. Four years ago, this was. Needless to say, Emily overheard this and had been furious. She'd given him the cold shoulder for weeks, not letting up until he agreed that she _could_ go to Thompson with everyone else she'd grown up with. That had been for the best. Emily might never have worked up the confidence to do half the things she'd done without Derek and Casey. And especially Sheldon.

But Jerry didn't like Sheldon either.

Linda watched Emily stop wringing her hands and lean against the table.

"You ready?" she said.

"Nope," he said, getting up.

He picked up the pitcher and rattled the ice in it. He grabbed some plastic tumblers on his way out. Then he turned to them.

"Why don't you two go hang out on the couch or something?" Derek asked. "Put a movie in? I mean, you guys don't have to stay—"

"Yeah, we do," Linda said. "Don't you worry. We're not going anywhere."

"Um," Derek said. "Okay. But at least get comfortable? Can't sit in those chairs too long before your legs fall asleep."

_Poor thing is beyond terrified_, Linda thought. _He thinks it's his job to make it all better. _

"Think he'll sleep this weekend?" Emily asked after he'd gone.

"Not a chance," Linda said. "And I just gave him caffeine, too."

"Drop in the bucket," Emily said.

"Yeah," Linda said. "Or maybe he'll crash after the sugar high runs out. I'll go check on them in a little bit. Meantime, let's see what these people have in the way of DVDs because we got a little time to kill."

Part Six: Edwin.

Lizzie fell asleep. God was in His Heaven and all was right with the world. For now, anyway.

She had tried to get rid of the three of them numerous times before she'd dropped off. But she so clearly didn't want anyone to go anywhere. So they stayed.

She apologized for crying again, of course, like that was something to be sorry about. Like she'd stepped on their feet, or broken something.

"Cry if you need to cry," Edwin said.

"I'm sick of crying," Lizzie said. "I'm not doing it anymore."

Edwin shrugged. What else could he do? He kissed her on the forehead, then, deciding that that wasn't good enough, kissed her on the mouth. Just a quick little no pressure peck. She let him. He was afraid that she wouldn't want to be touched, considering what had just almost happened to her. When Emily first picked him up, he'd half expected Lizzie to shrink against the far side of the backseat and not let him near her. He almost fell on his knees in gratitude when that didn't happen. So he kissed her to show her that he was there for her and always would be.

She was at the hitching, hiccuping stage. He tried to get her to try some hiccup remedies.

Like when Derek showed up with the water, Edwin told her to try drinking from the back of the cup.

"How do you do that?" Lizzie asked.

"Yeah," Derek said. "How _do_ you do that? People always say that's what you should do, but I don't see how it's possible."

"Against the laws of physics," Casey agreed.

"No idea," Edwin admitted. "Okay. Try taking a sip. Then you hold the water in your mouth, hold your breath for ten seconds and swallow."

She tried it. Then hiccuped some more.

"Um" Edwin said, thinking fast. "Boo? Oogie Boogie?"

Lizzie smiled. The hiccups became a little fewer and farther between.

"Aren't you hot?" Edwin asked. Lizzie was still in that hoodie and Edwin was baking just from looking at her.

"Nope," Lizzie said. She kept it zipped and pulled the sleeves down over her hands so that her fingers curled over the cuffs. Edwin scooted over to the head of the bed so that he leaned against the headboard. He put a tentative arm around Lizzie, hoping she'd let him hold her. She did, up to a point. She leaned on him, but didn't relax. It was like when Marti forced him to play dolls with her and he couldn't get them to sit in what looked like a natural, comfortable position. The bend of the legs were always a couple degrees off. He had dreams about the dolls being allowed to be human for one day. He was convinced that he first thing they'd do, even before they had sex, would be to slouch.

_It'd be slouch first, then sex,_ he thought. _Maybe some slouchy slouchy sex. God I'm a lunatic. Stop thinking about that! And see if you can stop Lizzie from doing the Barbie® lean. _

A massage was out of the question, not that he knew how to give a massage. He would've had fun trying to, though. In the car, he'd tried rubbing her back before she told him about the bruises.

That was another thing. He wanted to see the bruises. He needed to assess the damage. He had to know what was going on so that he knew what to deal with. But there was no way in hell she was showing him any of it, and not only because she didn't want him to see her without a shirt.

But Edwin was aching for information. He needed to know exactly what was going on if he was going to slow down his imagination. At that moment, from the way Lizzie moved, he pictured a solid black mess where her back used to be. But it couldn't be that bad. He hoped.

"Why don't you just lie down on your stomach, Liz?" Casey asked.

Lizzie shrugged, like she hadn't planned that far ahead. Edwin let go of her and she lay down on the diagonal on her little bed. Her feet hung off of the edge, then she curled up.

"Stretch out, already," Edwin said, sliding off the bed and onto the floor. He sat with his back to her nightstand. She trailed her arm off the bed and he held it.

He noticed that Derek looked half asleep even though he was standing up against her wall. Edwin could picture him falling asleep like that. After about the third nudge that Casey gave him, Derek shook himself awake and moved to sit on the stairs that led up to Edwin's room. They faced Lizzie's door and were close enough for her to see him as long as she kept the door open. And more importantly, _he_ could see _her_. Casey excused herself, too, but assured Lizzie that she was going to be nearby.

"Yeah, yeah," Lizzie murmured. "Go."

Casey moved Lizzie's hair out of her eyes and took a swipe at smoothing Edwin's hair down. Derek's thing was to mess it up and Casey's thing was to fix it again.

Lizzie faced him and tried to keep eye contact, but she was rapidly falling asleep. Edwin stayed where he was, half leaning on her arm.

One minute he was whispering to her that all was well and that she should go ahead and close her eyes, and the next minute he was being jolted awake by the motion of her arm jerking away from him.

"Hmm?" Edwin said. After he gave both eyes a good rub with the heels of his hands, he looked up to see Lizzie perched on the edge of her bed. Before his eyes even had a chance to focus, Derek was in the room.

"I'm okay," Lizzie said, holding her hands out to keep him back. She was a little sweaty and generally looked and sounded like the opposite of okay.

"Uh huh," Derek said, meaning: "yeah, right." "Do you want a drink or something?"

"No," Lizzie said.

She moved a little stiffly as she got up off of the bed. Derek moved to help her and put out her hands again to stop him.

"Where you going?" Derek said, before Edwin had a chance to.

"Bathroom," Lizzie said. "If you don't mind."

"Do you need any help?" Derek said.

_Gaaah! Stupid, stupid, stupid_, Edwin thought.

"I've been managing it myself for a while, actually," Lizzie said. "I don't even fall in anymore."

She moved like an old woman. She shuffled to her door, then started forcing herself to walk more normally. That more than anything else hurt Edwin to see—the fact that she knew and cared what she looked like to them and wanted to fix it.

Derek was trying to keep away. Edwin could tell he was really putting in an effort, but he was also doing that thing with his hands. He tapped one hand against the leg of his jeans because there wasn't a handy object—an armrest maybe, or Edwin's head—to tap on. So it was only a matter of time. Edwin followed Derek and Lizzie out into the hall and saw Casey looking as unfocused as he felt.

Derek wasn't known for his restraint, so Edwin was really impressed that he held out as long as he did.

Lizzie got halfway through the hall before he tried to put an arm around her shoulders.

"Derek," Lizzie said, warding him off.

Taking a hint was another of Derek's weak points. He tried again.

"BACK OFF!" Lizzie yelled. She shoved him. It wasn't a hard shove, but combined with the scream, it was enough to send Derek flying into his own closed door.

Lizzie's eyes got big when she realized what she'd done. She moved toward Derek.

"Oh my God!" she said. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. Oh my God..."

"It's okay," Derek said. "Just go ahead to the bathroom. I'm okay."

She went in and shut the door like the Devil was chasing her. They could immediately hear her crying in there.

As soon as she was out of sight, Derek's face contorted and he started rubbing his hip where it connected with the doorknob.

"Ow, fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck!" he whisper-screamed.

Emily came up the stairs at top speed, stumbling a little on her way up.

"Hey," she said. "What the hell—"

He turned the offending doorknob and went into his room, beckoning Em, Casey, and Edwin to follow. He shut the door behind them.

Casey lifted Derek's shirt to check for damage, but didn't see anything. Not that anything would show up right away. There'd probably be a nice bruise in the morning, though, Edwin figured.

"Is there an award for doing absolutely every possible thing wrong?" Derek asked. "Because I'm overdue for it. I would totally sweep the fuckup awards."

"Derek," Casey said. "Stop saying stuff like that. You're not doing everything wrong. I mean, granted, you should have let her be when she told you to, but other than that..."

"Other than that, , how was the play?" Derek asked. "I should've known better."

"Yeah," Edwin agreed. "You should've. But that doesn't make you a fuckup."

"How do we fix this?" Derek said. "Think she's gonna come out of there tonight?"

"Maybe not for a while," Casey said.

Outside the room, Edwin heard the front door open and shut.

"That's the 'rents," Derek said. "Here's where I_ really_ get it."


	4. Chapter 4

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Four.

Part One: Casey.

Her Mom and George radiated authority. They must have practiced the look in the mirror before they got out of the car.

_Mommeeee_, Casey thought as she came down the stairs. She wanted nothing more than to bury her face in her Mom's coat, but she knew that it was Lizzie's turn for that.

"She's upstairs," Casey said. "Locked herself in the bathroom."

"Okay," Mom said, pulling Casey into a reassuringly tight hug and kissing her hair. "I'm on it."

Casey nodded, and her Mom let go and headed upstairs. Derek barely managed to squeeze past her on the stairs avoiding the hug she tried to give him. But he always did that, so, for the moment, Mom seemed to content herself with running a hand over his hair and briefly cupping his chin.

"She's in there," Derek said, pointing in the general direction of the bathroom and coming down the stairs.

George had coats in his hands, but he dropped them and pulled Casey over to him with one arm and with the other beckoned Derek closer. Derek stayed where he was, so George pulled Casey along a few feet and grabbed him.

"How are you guys doing?" George asked. "Where's Ed?"

"Hey," Edwin said on his way down. Casey got a good look at Edwin as he came down the stairs. He really looked awful, and it struck her then that his guard was finally down. He'd been so preternaturally calm until that moment, especially in front of Lizzie, and Casey guessed that he just couldn't do it anymore. He was the only one who hadn't cracked so far, and he was pretty overdue. After George gave him his well-deserved squish, he collapsed onto the couch.

Linda, who'd been trying her best to blend in with the walls, came over and ruffled Edwin's hair, trying to be reassuring. He looked up at her blankly, then stared at his lap. As far as Casey knew, Edwin had never been in such a state in his life. It was like someone had stolen his batteries. This was a kid who never saw a couch that he didn't pounce on, one who never heard a corny joke he didn't repeat. This was a kid who tended to start laughing in the middle of arguments because of faces other people made when they yelled, or because he just couldn't stay mad.

Emily came downstairs and announced that Lizzie let Nora into the bathroom.

"Okay," George said. "That's a start."

"And Emily? Linda?" George began. "I can't begin to thank the two of you for being here."

"I only wish that we could've done some more," Linda said. "I made some coffee and we checked on them a couple of times. That's about it."

"Don't forget the soup," Edwin said. Casey thought that his attempt at humor was at least a tiny bit encouraging, even though he'd said it in a flat, dead tone of voice that made her want to wail in pain. Derek looked over at him in concern; he clearly didn't like what he heard, either.

Meanwhile, Derek looked like the ax was about to fall on his head. Like he was about to get yelled at. Come to think of it, George _had_ yelled at him a little bit earlier, over the phone, but not because of anything that he'd done. George hadn't even realized he'd been yelling until it was pointed out to him.

George thanked Linda and Emily again and in another flurry of hugs, they went on their way. It had actually been pretty comforting to have them around, but _someone_ should get some sleep around here.

_Mmmm_, she thought. _Sleeeep. _That made no sense, but she didn't really care.

She looked from Derek to Edwin and back again, not knowing which one needed help more. She caught George doing the same thing.

Finally George sat down on the couch next to Edwin.

"Hey," George said, putting a hand under Edwin's chin and turning his head.

That left Derek. He was sitting on the arm of the couch, so Casey stood in front of him and pulled him close. She held him so that his head was on her chest. Once or twice, he's joked about this being his favorite place, being somehow attached to her breasts. It was clumsy flattery, but flattery all the same.

"Love you," she said.

"Love you," he said. "So much. And you smell good."

Casey laughed.

Part Two: Nora.

_It's all about looking like you're in charge_, Nora thought as she approached the bathroom. _Do not freak out, no matter what. _

She caught Emily's eye and Emily seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. The feeling was a little bit like being caught in her underwear. Emily smiled at her, nervously and Nora returned the smile and knocked on the door.

"Lizzie, sweetie?" Nora said. "Can I come in?"

She heard the lock click. She tried the knob and opened the door.

Behind her, she heard Emily sigh in relief.

Her first thought when she got into the bathroom was that it wasn't as bad as she expected, but it was still pretty bad. It was all she could do not to hiss with sympathy pain as she looked at the scrapes and the bruises coupled with her baby's wide, red eyes.

It could have been worse, but it wasn't good.

Lizzie sat on the fuzzy pink toilet seat cover, while Nora perched on the edge of the tub. The whole ride home, she'd been thinking about the million ways this conversation could go wrong. She felt (even though she knew how irrational this was) a lot riding on how she handled this. The first thing that came to Nora's mind to say was "Tell me everything," but she really didn't want to order her daughter to relive the worst night of her life so far. Yes, it would be good for her to talk about it, and Nora herself wanted to know. Truth be told, she _needed_ to know. But, really, that was not Lizzie's problem.

"Do you want to talk about it?"Nora said, after a minute.

"I just knocked Derek into a wall," Lizzie blurted. It was the last thing Nora expected her to say.

Nora kept her mouth shut and waited for Lizzie to continue.

"I'm so sorry," Lizzie said. "He was trying to help, and I didn't want him to, but he kept pushing and...what if I really hurt him?"

"He seemed okay just now, sweetie," Nora said. "I just saw him."

"But I could've hurt him," Lizzie said. "That guy tonight. What I did to him."

It would not do to say something about how much damage Nora hoped Lizzie had done to that creep. God only knew how many other women (or children) he hurt. So once again, Nora said nothing.

"I kicked him as hard as I could," Lizzie said. "I was so scared. But I was mad, too. Because he knocked me into the wall, and my dress was starting to fall off. So I kicked him...in the crotch. I ruined that blue dress by the way. And we left it at the hospital. I didn't wanna see it again."

Nora didn't know how these things worked—she'd have to ask George later—but she thought that the police might have taken the dress for evidence. Even though she wasn't raped, they might need it to show the severity of the attack.

"Baby," Nora began. "It won't feel like it now, but none of this is your fault. You did what you had to do to save yourself."

"But is this what I'm gonna be now?" Lizzie said. "Psycho Girl?"

"If you were 'Psycho Girl,' you wouldn't care who you hurt," Nora said. "You are a good, kind person. That is who you are. And you're brave. You saved yourself. Nothing more or less."

"But I just feel so bad!" Lizzie said. "And I can't stop thinking about it. And I hurt Derek. And you guys had to give up reservations and stuff. And no one's getting any sleep and it's all because I'm being a drama queen. And I just can't stop!"

"Lizzie, if anyone else in this family were sick or hurt, would you be willing to help them in any way you could?" Nora asked.

"Yeah," Lizzie said.

"Would you fault them for needing you?" Nora asked.

"No," Lizzie said. Lizzie clearly knew where this was going, but she needed to hear it.

"So why would anyone fault you for needing them?" Nora asked. "This is your family and we all love you. We'd all do anything for you. You do not have to feel guilty for that. You are not to blame. And anyway, the weekend isn't ruined. You're here and you're clearly feeling pretty miserable, but you'll be okay, so I'd call this a pretty good weekend, all told."

Lizzie looked at Nora like she'd stepped off the deep end. Nora smiled like a game show hostess.

"Okay, so the weekend is sucking so far," Nora said. "But so what? It's not the only weekend we're ever gonna have." _Even though it could've been_, Nora thought. _Now that kind of thought is totally unnecessary. _She banished the thought from her head. _Begone! _

"So, Chickpea, do you think you might wanna sleep a little?" Nora said.

"I dunno," Lizzie said. "I guess. Are you sure that nobody hates me for being crazy?"

Nora laughed. "Have you forgotten which family you belong to? It's like those plaques that they put up in offices, the ones that say 'You don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps?' We live by the plaque."

She stood up and heard her knees pop as she held out a hand for her daughter. She pulled Lizzie close, and gave her a gentle hug, still not entirely sure where she was hurt. When she asked, Lizzie unzipped her hoodie and allowed Nora to lift up her shirt a little, revealing some ugly purple, but again, not as bad as Nora had pictured on the ride home. _Still, it must hurt like hell_, Nora thought.

"Did they give you anything for the pain?" Nora asked.

"They gave me some packets of over the counter stuff," Lizzie said, pulling one such sample packet out of her jeans pocket. "I took some before, so I'm okay for now."

"Okay," Nora said. She kissed Lizzie's cheek, then opened the bathroom door, not at all surprised to see Casey and Derek there.

"'Sup," Derek said. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded, like he was hanging out at his locker before class. Casey rolled her eyes. Nora laughed. Only Lizzie still looked painfully serious. She took a step forward, and he unfolded his arms and held them open, eyebrows raised. Lizzie took another step and he hugged her. Nora could just barely make out her whimpered apology to Derek. Later on, after Nora had begun to notice the pattern, Casey confirmed that every other sentence that had come out of Lizzie the whole night had had the word "sorry" in it.

For now, Derek kept whispering that it was okay, everything was okay, in the hopes that eventually it would sink in. At least she wasn't crying at the moment. Nora guessed that she was cried out for the time being.

"Where's Edwin?" Lizzie asked finally.

"He's downstairs, talking to George," Casey said. She and Derek exchanged a look that Nora made a mental note to ask about.

"Okay," Lizzie said. "I'll just go see —"

"He'll come up," Casey said, suddenly. "You shouldn't keep going up and down the stairs. I'll go get him." And she was most of the way down the stairs before anyone could say anything else. Lizzie looked at the spot Casey'd been standing in and shook her head. It almost felt like business as usual.

Part Three: George.

George was getting nowhere. Edwin sat on the couch, staring in the direction of the blank TV screen. He occasionally munched on a fingernail. At least one finger had started to bleed in the time George had been trying to talk to him.

_Or, more accurately, talk at him_, George thought. He'd been going on and on about how Lizzie had gotten hurt and needed a lot of attention, but that _everybody_ was feeling a lot of pain for her and that it was okay for him to feel that pain and to take some time for himself to talk about it.

No answer.

George asked all the open-ended questions that he could think of, then, once those were exhausted, all the closed-ended questions. He'd settle for a grunt.

And Edwin was the demonstrative one. George expected this kind of shutdown from Derek, who, as much as he tried to deny and repress it, worried too much. The girls usually cried things out and asked for help when they needed it, but the boys...George was a little scared.

"Look at me," George said, crouching down in front of Edwin. Edwin obliged, at least.

"I get that you don't want to talk," George said. "Probably all you want to do is sleep, and that's okay. I'm just bugging you right now because I don't want you to think you have to keep anything inside. I know you, Ed. I know how much you love Lizzie, and I'm sure that you've just done an excellent job of helping her thus far. Now you can relax. Okay?"

No answer.

"_Okay_, Ed?" George asked.

"Yeah," Edwin said.

"So what are you gonna do?" George said.

"Relax?" Edwin said. George guessed that that was an attempt at humor.

"Just promise me that you'll ask for help when you need it, okay?" George said. "Seriously. Promise."

"No pressure," Edwin said.

"Ed," George said.

"Yeah, I know," Edwin said.

"Do you promise?" George asked. "I want you to say the words."

"I promise," Edwin said. It would've been more convincing if he'd had a facial expression since the conversation began.

"Okay," George said. "You're doing great. That's enough of my nagging for now." He'd been about to say something else, but he saw Casey on the stairs.

"What's up, Casey?" George asked.

Casey looked at the floor. "Um," she said. "Nothing." She turned to go back upstairs, but seemed to stop herself and turn back.

"What is it?" George asked. "How's Lizzie doing?"

Edwin looked up.

"Better," Casey said. "She's gonna try to sleep again."

"Well that's good then," George said. He looked down at his watch "It's only—a quarter to four, look at that."

Edwin slid off the couch and started for the stairs.

"Going to bed, Edwin?" George asked.

Edwin said nothing. Casey exchanged a worried look with George, then followed Edwin upstairs.

George thought that he and Nora were going to have to look into counseling for all the kids. In the morning, he'd do some research, and on Monday, he'd make a few calls.

Part Four: Casey.

Edwin clunked slowly up the stairs and stopped a little short of Lizzie's room. He took a deep breath and knocked on Lizzie's door jamb. Then it was like someone flicked Edwin's switch back on.

"Hi," he said.

Lizzie had finally taken off the hoodie and changed into some pajama pants. She was sitting up in bed, and when Edwin came in, she patted a spot on her comforter for him to sit down. He did.

"It is so past our bedtime," Lizzie said. "We're gonna be cranky all day tomorrow."

Edwin laughed. "Yeah," he said. "People're gonna mistake us for Casey and Derek all over the place. Brace yourself."

"I heard that," Derek called from his own doorway.

"You were supposed to," Edwin called.

_How did he do that?_ Casey thought. He'd just completely reanimated himself. She looked over to see if Derek was as shocked as she was, but his face didn't give much away. He put his arm around her and marched her the couple of steps to Lizzie's room.

"You hear that, Case?" Derek asked. "Is this what the world is coming to? I, for one, worry for future generations, 'cause there's just no respect for elders anymore."

It was, Casey understood, _her_ turn to pretend that everything was okay.

"Nope," she said, not thinking she'd fool anyone. "No respect at all."

"Then again," Derek said. "That's just business as usual for you." His eyes pleaded with her to play along for a minute.

"Like celibacy for you?" Casey said.

Edwin laughed. "Ooooooooh?" he said.

Derek stuck out his lower lip. "Mean," he said. "All of you, mean! I'm gonna go to my cold bed and listen to some emo, now."

"This would be different from last night, how?" Edwin said.

"Mean," Derek repeated."Lizzie, tell him to be nice to me!"

"Yeah, whatever, be nice to him and stuff," Lizzie said.

"Thank you," Derek said. "That warms my heart."

"Okay, guys?" Casey said. "I'm sleepy and that means you all gotta shut up. Say good night to Lizzie, Edwin."

Predictably, Edwin said. "Good night to Lizzie, Edwin." He leaned over and gave her a peck before he was dragged away.

"Love you," Edwin said.

"Love you," Lizzie said.

"Yeah, yeah," Derek said. "Kiss, kiss, mush, mush. Bedtime."


	5. Chapter 5

Closet Monsters

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. Including MuchMusic, myspace, _1984_, Red Bull and Disneyworld. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Five

Part One: Lizzie.

Lizzie's first thought upon waking up late Saturday morning was _Holy crap, I'm so late! _Then she remembered that she wasn't going to _Taekwondo_ that day and, when she sat up in bed and felt a little sore, remembered why.

_What's on TV this time of day_, she wondered. She hadn't been home at this time on a Saturday in years. She hoped it was something good, because she was planning to be home at this time from now on. There was no way in hell she was going back to _Taekwondo_.

_Hope Sensei Skip doesn't get too upset_, Lizzie thought. _I hope Mom didn't pay for the rest of the month because I'll be stuck if she did. _

She stood up and stretched slowly. She wasn't as sore as she thought she'd be and it felt really good to stretch. She showered almost without incident, trying not to curse as the hot water hit some of her scrapes. She still kept the water as hot as she could take it. She thought it would feel better in the long run and she was right.

She threw on some clothes, left her hair wet and came downstairs. When she got to the living room, Derek and Casey turned around and looked up at her from the couch, both of them with identical stupid looks on their faces.

"Shut _up_," Lizzie said, from her spot at the foot of the stairs.

"How ya doing, Liz?" Casey asked.

"Ookaaay," Lizzie said. "How are _you_?"

"Are you hungry?"Casey asked. Derek got up.

"Okay, stop," Lizzie said. Derek paused, his butt a couple inches off the couch. "Sit!"

Derek sat back down.

"Good boy," Lizzie said. Derek narrowed his eyes at her. That was better.

"Edwin still in bed?" Lizzie asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Derek said.

"Okay, good," Lizzie said. He really hadn't looked so good the night before. They should let him sleep a little. He'd feel so much better once she did. Somehow a little sleep seemed to do wonders for her. She knew she'd probably start freaking out again later, but for now all she needed in the world was a bowl of something crunchy and sugary. She brought her cereal out to the living room and settled onto the couch with Derek and Casey, both of whom continued to look at her like she was an alien. They really needed to learn to enjoy the calm while it lasts. That's what she and Edwin did with the two of _them_ around.

As Lizzie sat there watching MuchMusic with the two old ladies, Casey scrunched the ends of Lizzie's wet hair so that it would curl up a little more. Derek, after a little while, began to relax and pay a little more attention to the TV.

Her Mom showed up and didn't bother to hide the fact that she was checking up. No doubt George was sitting downstairs waiting for news. She could picture him sitting in front of the computer trying to occupy himself by playing pinball, or maybe blackjack, so that he didn't follow Mom into the kitchen.

"What's funny?" Mom asked, smiling a little.

"Nothing," Lizzie said. Mom let it go.

"I was wondering if anyone gave any thought to what we should get for dinner?" Mom said.

"It's not even _one o' clock_," Lizzie said. "I have cereal. Who's thinking of dinner?"

"Pizza," Derek said without hesitation. Casey rolled her eyes.

"What?" Derek asked. "Chicken parm then?"

"One vote for Italian," Mom said. "I guess I'll wait to hold a vote until Ed gets up."

Not that anyone thought his eyes wouldn't light up at the prospect of some takeout from Peppito's.

The doorbell rang, and Mom went to get it. Next thing Lizzie knew, Sensei Skip came walking in. He was a college kid, a little taller than Derek and with an Adam's apple that entered a room long before he did. He looked deceptively skinny, but wasn't the sensei for nothing.

"Oh, Skip!" she said. "I meant to call you this morning."

"Just wanted to make sure that everything's okay," Skip said. "Lizzie hasn't missed a class in pretty much forever, so I thought something might be..."

Then he saw her and came over to inspect the damage done to her face. She was starting to get really sick of that.

"Skip, quit it. I'm okay," Lizzie said, dodging him. "You'd think no one ever got mugged before."

"You got _mugged_!" Skip squeaked. "Oh my God, Lizzie! Looks like you fought a little, huh? You should've just given him the money! It's not worth getting hurt over!"

So that was a problem with telling people she'd gotten mugged. Skip gave self-defense classes, too, and the first thing he always told people was that you could always get more money and another cell phone, so if you can get away by giving up the cash, do it. He said that you should only fight as a last resort. But she still didn't think he needed to know what really happened.

"Dude jumped her before he got her wallet," Derek lied. Lizzie looked at him gratefully. "She got in a few shots, though. That's why she isn't hurt worse."

"Really?" Skip said.

"Shyeah," Derek said. "You should see the other guy."

Skip took a long hard look at Lizzie. Then he said something that made her want to curl up in a ball again.

"He didn't want your wallet, did he, honey?" Skip asked.

"Okay," Derek said, getting up from the couch. "Nice meeting you—Skip is it? Sorry to hear that you can't stay for coffee or anything." He grabbed Skip's arm and started dragging him toward the door. Derek was so lucky that Skip was a pacifist.

As he was being dragged, Skip talked really fast "You did the right thing," he said. "Take all the time you need to rest, but I wanna see you back in class soon. Okay?"

The door slammed in his face.

"Derek!" Lizzie said.

"Derek," Mom said.

"De-_rek_!" Casey said.

"What?" Derek said. "You maybe _wanted_ that conversation to go on?"

"You didn't have to be rude," Lizzie said.

As it turned out, Skip was the first in a long line of what Derek started to refer to as "Lizzie's Bunch of Lookie-loos."

Jamie was next. He made the requisite amount of fuss until she asked him who told.

"My uncle Billy's a cop," Jamie said. "Told me about how he went to the hospital to book some guy who tried to...um..hurt a girl who turned out to be a purple belt. When you weren't in _taekwondo_ this morning...well..."

"Don't tell anyone," Lizzie said.

"Okay," Jamie said.

"Did you tell someone already?" Lizzie said.

Jamie looked painfully guilty.

"Oh God," Lizzie said.

"I might have asked Brooke if she'd talked to you since last night."

"Why don't you just put an ad in the paper?" Lizzie said.

"Well, I'm sorry, Lizzie," Jamie said. "She's your friend. I thought she'd care. She wanted to know what happened to you when you were supposed to call her last night and didn't."

"Crap," Lizzie said. "I was supposed to call her." Whenever anyone left Brooke's house, she told them to call her to let her know they got home okay. It was sweet, but it could get on your nerves.

"She said she called you a bunch of times," Jamie said.

"My phone's broken," Lizzie said. "I better call her before she—"

"She _might_ be waiting outside," Jamie said.

Derek snorted. Casey nudged him.

Lizzie went to the door and poked her head out. "What the hell?" she said. "Why didn't you just come to the door?"

"I dunno," Brooke said. She looked at Lizzie's face, her eyes going directly to the bruises.

"Don't say it," Lizzie said.

"It's not that bad," Brooke said.

"You coming in?" Lizzie asked. She held the door open and stood aside to let her by.

"You guys want some cookies?" Mom said. "I think I'll go get some...cookies. Casey? Derek? Why don't you give me a hand?"

"Pulling cookies out of a box?" Derek asked. "Ow!" he said as Casey poked him. "Okay! Okay! I'm coming!"

Brooke cracked a smile, thinking their total lack of subtlety was cute. Jamie seemed pretty used to it.

As soon as Derek pulled the pocket doors shut, Brooke turned to Lizzie.

"Did you really kick the guy's ass?" She blurted. "I hope you did."

"Here's an idea," Lizzie said. "How bout we talk about anything else?"

"But you really have to--"

"What do you think of this weather we're having?" Lizzie asked.

"Liz—"

"Did you read that chapter for English yet?" Lizzie asked.

"No," Brooke said taking the hint. "Did you?"

"Nuh-uh," Lizzie said. "We'll make Jamie tell us what happens."

"I didn't read it either," Jamie said.

"Well," Brooke said. "You have till Monday. You can fill us in then."

"Make Edwin do it," Jamie said.

"You're easier," Brooke said. "Edwin always reads ahead and it totally throws me off."

"I do it just to mess with you, Brooke," Edwin said from the top of the stairs. Jamie bumped fists with him when he got to the living room. Both Jamie and Brooke gave Edwin the same look of concern they'd given Lizzie. Because, if possible, he looked worse than Lizzie did. His eyes were puffy and had dark circles under them.

"And did I tell you how mad it makes me?" Brooke asked, pecking him on the cheek.

"I love to hear it," Edwin said. He went over to Lizzie, lifted her hair out of the way to inspect her face. She rolled her eyes at him, but he seemed to think that she looked a little better. Good thing he couldn't see what her back looked like. He leaned in and kissed her on the mouth, just a quick peck.

_Start the day off right_, Lizzie thought.

"Is there coffee?" Edwin asked.

"No idea," Lizzie said. "Mom said something about cookies."

"Umkay," Edwin said as he disappeared into the kitchen, closing the pocket doors behind him.

"Was he there with you?" Brooke asked.

"No, he was bowling with Teddy," Lizzie said. "Why?"

Brooke leaned in pulling Jamie and Lizzie into a huddle with her so they wouldn't be overheard.

"He looks like shit," she said.

"He does," Lizzie said. "I'm a little worried."

Part Two: Edwin.

Edwin didn't sleep. He got into bed early that morning after Lizzie had finally passed out, thinking that he didn't plan to move until they woke him for dinner. He ended up staring at the ceiling.

He learned several things:

The patch in the plaster from when his Dad tried to fix the roof was in the exact shape of Antarctica. He looked it up. He was going to take a picture later and post it on his myspace.

There was a pigeon that liked to come hang out at his window. He was kinda hoping it would build a nest. He planned to leave rice or popcorn or something out for it. As the sun came up, it cast a humongous shadow on his wall. If he'd thought that there was any chance of the bird staying still, he would have traced its outline. He could have had the coolest mural.

He also learned that the more he told himself to go to sleep, the wider awake he became. It usually worked in the opposite way: the more he tried to stay up, the sleepier he got. Then he thought that he was onto something and tried to tell himself to stay awake. It didn't work.

By the time he gave up and went to take a shower, he'd been up for thirty hours straight.

He couldn't read in this state. His eyes didn't want to focus. He grabbed what he thought was shampoo and it turned out to be some kind of glittery body wash. There was probably still some glitter in his hair. It didn't seem to matter. It smelled good.

In the kitchen, he caught his Dad, Nora, Casey and Derek whispering about something or other and they all looked real guilty when he walked in.

"What're you up to?" he said, mock suspiciously.

As usual, Casey didn't pick up on the "mock" part. "Nothing!" she said. "What makes you think we're up to something? We're just having a normal family talk."

"Uh-huh," Edwin said. He didn't really care.

He suddenly didn't remember what he was doing in there. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking around in the hopes that something would remind him.

"Did you want something to eat, Ed?" his Dad asked.

Edwin startled. "Yeah! Food! I like food."

"Food...good," Derek grunted. Edwin laughed, probably a little too hard.

_Wheeee_, he thought.

He put his head in the fridge. He thought that he saw some Red Bull in there the night before. He found it pretty quickly and pounded one right away.

"How _could_ you?" Casey said.

"It's not difficult," Edwin said. Then he belched.

"Did you sleep?" Nora asked.

"Yeah," Edwin lied. "A couple-three hours or so."

"Why don't you go ahead and try to sleep a little more instead of drinking those...things?" Nora said.

_Because if I spend one more second in my room, looking at my ceiling, I'll...something. I am so damn tired,_ he thought.

"I'm good," Edwin said. "So what were you guys talking about?"

"Not much," Casey said.

"We were just giving the others some space," Nora said.

"Weren't you supposed to work today?" Edwin asked Derek.

"Sally switched with me," Derek said. "I'm gonna work for her tomorrow."

Edwin leaned against the kitchen table and rubbed at his eyes. It was funny. They didn't much want to focus, but they didn't want to close either.

There was no reason for this. Everybody was okay. Lizzie, Edwin knew, was in the other room at the moment, happily goofing on Jamie and Brooke, and probably Edwin himself. Derek was standing in the kitchen here, trying to grab cookies without Casey slapping his hands. Dad and Nora—well Dad and Nora were looking at him crooked, but that just proved that _he_ was the problem. No one else.

So all he needed to do was stop acting like he was a little seaweed short of a California roll and everything would be fine. If Lizzie was okay, then he could be okay.

"Edwin?" Nora said.

"Mmhmm?" Edwin said without looking up.

She put her hand on his forehead. He pulled back and looked up at her.

"What are you doing?" Edwin asked.

"I dunno," Nora said. "Just sorta...checking. Look at me."

He looked up. She took his face in her hands and looked at him closely.

"Do I have a booger or something?"he asked.

"Nope," Nora said, putting her cool hands on his face briefly. "But you have some really glassy eyes. Are you sure you slept?"

"I didn't sleep as much as I wanted to," Edwin said.

"How much _did _you sleep?" Derek asked.

"I told you before," Edwin said. Trouble was, he couldn't remember what he'd said.

"Tell me again," Derek said.

"Like a couple hours," Edwin said.

"From when to when?" Derek asked.

"Huh?" Edwin asked. "Do you think I put it on my blog or something? How the hell should I know exactly when? Is this something you keep track of, Derek?"

"So how do you know how long you slept?" Derek asked.

"I guessed," Edwin said. "Why do you care?"

"There's nothing on TV," Derek said.

"Should we try this again?" Edwin said. "Maybe I'll rephrase the question a little: why exactly are you bugging me about my sleeping habits or lack thereof?"

"I live to annoy you," Derek said.

"Thought you lived to annoy Casey," Edwin said.

"Sometimes a change is as good as a rest," Derek said. Edwin knew something was up when Casey didn't react to that.

"Wait—what?" Edwin said. "We're still speaking English aren't we? Like if we all switched to Doublespeak or whatever, I would've gotten a memo, right. Maybe they'd give us a few months warning before the changeover...and..." Edwin paused to gather his thoughts.

"What were we talking about?" Edwin asked.

"Ed?" Derek said. "What do you want to do right now?"

"What?" Edwin asked.

"What do you want to do right now?" Derek asked again.

"I wanna go to Disneyworld," Edwin said.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, Ed, believe me, but not everything is a joke, bro," Derek said. "So I want you to look me in the eye and answer the question. What do you want to do right now?"

"End this conversation," Edwin said. "And maybe a nap would be nice."

The doors opened. "What are you guys doing in here?" Lizzie said. "Because obviously you're not getting cookies."


	6. Chapter 6

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. Including Garfield, _The Vicar of Dibley_, and Disneyworld. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Six

Part One: Lizzie.

This didn't look a bit suspicious. It was a good thing that she'd thought to send Brooke and Jamie on their way because things looked oddly serious in here. 

"Seriously," Lizzie said, after an unprecedented period of silence. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Disneyworld," Derek said.

"What?" Lizzie said. She looked around the kitchen. Everyone seemed to be standing apart and avoiding all eye contact. There was the possibility that they'd all been talking about her and that's why they all looked so guilty and fidgety, except for Edwin, who looked more or less dead. If they were all talking about her, then their priorities were all screwed up, because Edwin really needed some attention. 

"Nice, Derek," she answered. "Now does anyone have a _straight_ answer? Edwin?"

"Hmm?" Edwin said, looking up and squinting at her. She was about to hit him with a few questions knowing that he really couldn't lie to her without her knowing, but he didn't look up to it.

"You didn't sleep at all did you?" Lizzie said. He mumbled something that she translated to "I dunno, a little." 

"C'mere," Lizzie said, but realized that she was coming to him rather than the other way around. When she got to him, she put her arms around him and murmured in his ear. "Just tell me."

"Can't fall asleep," he said. "Stared at the damn ceiling for hours."

"Oh okay," Lizzie said.

"Okay?" Casey said incredulously. Lizzie shot her a look that she hoped said "Go with it."

"You just need a change of scenery," Lizzie said to Edwin. He cocked his head the way he did when someone was talking total nonsense. "No seriously. If your room isn't doing it for you, you get out of your room. It's like 'Hey Doctor, it hurts when I do this. And what does the doctor say?" 

She looked at Edwin expectantly. He was a treasure trove of crappy old jokes like that.

"Huh?" he said after a second.

"Okay," Lizzie said, giving up. "Come on, I'm gonna put a movie in. You can stretch out on the couch."

"What if I don't fall asleep?"

"Then you'll watch the movie," Lizzie said. "Duh."

"But..." Edwin said, clearly not following. That didn't matter. And anyway it didn't look like anyone else was following either.

"Do you trust me?" Lizzie asked.

"Uh-huh," Edwin said.

"Okay then," Lizzie said.

"But what if I don't fall asleep?"

"Then we'll figure something out," Lizzie said. "It's not your problem. Your job is to just hang out. Now come on."

"Okay," Edwin said. 

She led him into the living room and sat him down while she went through the DVDs. She decided that she wasn't even going near the horror movies in the back of the high shelf. Nobody was going to be in the mood for violence. And that left out the action movies, too. She decided on a box set of some British sitcom her Mom bought for George's last birthday. _The Vicar of Dibley_, it was called. She hadn't seen it yet. 

She popped the first disc into the machine and sat at one end of the couch, pulling Edwin over to lean on her. He started out with his head on her shoulder, but soon migrated to her lap. That was encouraging. It meant he might start to drift off. 

Derek and Casey came over and settled in so that they could keep an eye on Ed, but ended up watching the show.

It was amazing. It was all about a woman vicar assigned to a small northern England town full of lunatics. A scene that featured the vicar getting caught rehearsing a phone call to a hot guy ruined Derek for a couple of minutes.

"Where's the 3x5 cards?" he asked when he could breathe again. Casey gasped and hit him while Lizzie shook with laughter. She looked down to check to see whether Edwin was following any of this. It seemed that he alternated watching her and watching the TV, but, this time, when she looked down, she was shocked by what she saw.

"Guys?" she said. Casey and Derek looked over and she pointed down at Edwin, who had finally passed out. Casey looked up from her spot on the floor, even going so far as to get up on her knees to check on him. Derek put down the footrest on the recliner, which made a ratcheting noise that normally wasn't that bad, but for some reason seemed especially loud at that moment.

"De-rek!" Casey whispered. Derek cringed. 

But Edwin didn't wake up. Casey crossed herself, something she hadn't done in years.

This time, it was George's turn to check on them. He came in, looked around the room, taking in Derek's presence on the floor with Casey and, when he saw that Edwin was finally asleep, winked at Lizzie, gave her the thumbs up and left without a word. 

Lizzie wondered how long she'd have to sit in this position. She'd do it if she needed to, was glad to do it in fact, if it helped. If it even undid a fraction of the damage she'd caused, she'd sit there all weekend, bathroom breaks be damned.

Derek and Casey were still paying attention to the show and every once in a while Lizzie heard one or the other of them stifling laughter; they were all so afraid of waking Edwin up. Lizzie herself lost track of the show. She picked up an Edwin-worthy joke once in a while, but mainly she concerned herself with watching him sleep. 

After a little under three hours, he jolted awake. 

"Hey," she said. He was trying to sit up, but she pushed him back down. It was easy. 

"Hey," he said. She smoothed his hair down in what she hoped was a soothing way.

"Okay?" she asked. "Or a little better anyway?"

"Uh-huh," he said. 

"Hey, Sleeping Ugly," Derek said. "We're ordering Peppito's. You want the usual?"

"Yeah," Edwin said. 

"'Kay," Derek said. "Go back to sleep. We'll shake you when it gets here."

Derek went back into the kitchen to make the call. Edwin sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

"So I know that none of us ever really listens to Derek," Lizzie began. "But I think this would be a good time to make an exception."

"Nope," Edwin said. "I'm good."

"Need I remind you who the boss of you is?" Lizzie asked.

"How could I ever forget," Edwin said.

"I really think you should lie down again," Lizzie said.

Edwin stood up, stretched and popped his neck a little. No matter how many times she told him how unhealthy that was, he still did it. Still, she'd been sitting there forever and she wanted to stretch, too. And hit the bathroom. He had the same idea, so she went downstairs to the 'rent's bathroom and he went upstairs. 

Part Two: Nora.

Nora was sprawled across her bed, a book that she was most certainly not reading in her hands. George was at the computer looking for time wasters. 

Lizzie knocked on the door, wanting the bathroom. 

"Edwin wake up?" George asked.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "He's in the other bathroom. Thought we'd save time."

George took that as his cue to go have another attempt at a talk with Edwin. Nora would work on Lizzie.

When Lizzie came back into the room, Nora patted the bed for Lizzie to have a seat next to her. 

"Is that good?" Lizzie asked.

"No idea," Nora said. "I guess Oprah liked it, but now I'm just not in the mood. How bout you?"

"That book doesn't look like something I'd be in the mood for either," Lizzie said.

"Wiseass," Nora said. "You know what I mean."

"I'm okay," Lizzie said. "I'm a little scared that I'll freak out again. But for now, I'm okay."

"It's okay to freak out," Nora reminded her.

"But it's not much fun," Lizzie said. "I'm not looking forward to it."

"Just don't run away from it," Nora said. "That's all I ask."

"Don't worry," Lizzie said. "I've seen what happens when you do that. So is George working on Ed?"

"Yeah," Nora said. 

"He slept," Lizzie said. "About three hours. Did George tell you?"

"He did," Nora said. "That's a start."

"I tried to get him to lie back down," Lizzie said. "Do you think he'll be able to rest tonight?"

"We'll have to wait and see," Nora said.

"I'm worried," Lizzie said.

"Me too," Nora said. "But we'll figure it out." 

"If you say so," Lizzie said. "And if anything in the world is gonna put the smile back on his face, it's gonna be the spaghetti and meatballs we ordered. Derek just made the call."

_If he eats_, Nora thought. She didn't want to put one more worry in Lizzie's head. But really, Nora didn't think that there was anything to worry about there. Edwin wouldn't die if he skipped dinner. If he wasn't hungry at dinnertime, he'd be hungry later. The stomach of a teenager was one of the only constants in this world.

"You're both really good kids, you know that, right?" Nora said.

"Somebody had to be," Lizzie said.

"Sweetie, I worry that that's the problem," Nora said.

"I was kidding, Mom."

"You were and you weren't," Nora said.

"No, I definitely was," Lizzie said. 

"Hear me out," Nora said. "You and Edwin have always been the mature ones, the ones to pick up everyone else's slack, and I admit that George and I have been at fault for a lot of that. You've very rarely rebelled against it. We all put too much on you."

"So does that mean we don't have to do the dishes tonight?" Lizzie asked.

Nora laughed in spite of herself. Whether or not this was the time for jokes, sometimes the kid was too quick for her. "Yeah, I think we can arrange a couple days off for the two of you. And enforce the chore rotation a little better."

"Well if I'd known all we needed to do for a little break was to have a couple of nervous breakdowns, we would've done it years ago," Lizzie said.

The smile dropped off of Nora's face. 

"Okay, too soon to joke, I get it," Lizzie said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Nora said. Nora was sure that Lizzie had a certain amount of bile to get out of her system and that they'd all get their fair share dumped on them. "You can go ahead and get mad."

"I'm not mad," Lizzie said. But of course she was. Anyone would be. "I wonder how George is doing upstairs."

"Me too," Nora said. 

"Nothing was gonna work with Edwin this morning," Lizzie said.

"Yeah," Nora said. "I guess if nothing else, we provided a good set up for you to take him away and get him to relax. You know what we were trying to do, don't you?"

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "Derek was trying to get Edwin to yell at him until he felt better. I bet even Edwin would've seen it coming if he hadn't been blotto. 'Cause you know, Derek's not too subtle. Think that's what George is doing right now?"

"Doubt it," Nora said. "I know you know we've talked about it. And we've decided that that's the last resort."

"We really are all nuts, aren't we?" Lizzie said. "I mean, Derek and Casey are a little more open about it, but Edwin's just like Derek with the overprotectiveness, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is," Nora said.

Part Three: George.

George waited outside the bathroom.

"Yes, I washed my hands," Edwin said when he saw him.

"Happy to hear it, son," George said. "How you feeling?"

"Okay," Edwin said. It never failed to amaze George how many different ways a teenager can look at you as if you've gone crazy overnight. Someone should make a coffee table book.

George walked over to the attic steps and sat down. He patted a spot next to him.

"Have a seat," he said. Edwin looked to be suppressing his habitual groan and eyeroll as he sat down. 

"Yeah, I know, Ed," George said. "I'll try to make it quick." 

"All I ask," Edwin said.

_Don't push it_, George almost said. But this was not the time for that. Especially in light of what he was about to say next.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew how good you've been about all this," George said. "You're a pretty good man to have around in a crisis."

More "Are you crazy" look from Edwin.

"It's true," George said. "But. And this is something that I never thought I'd say to one of my kids ever in life, but there is such a thing as too good. I mean, how old are you now?"

"You forgot again?" Edwin said.

"I'm trying to make a point here, Ed," George said. "But what the Hell. You're _fifteen_. Now, I ask you: is that old enough to be acting like all this responsibility is yours alone to deal with?"

"What responsibility?" Edwin said. 

"I saw you last night," George said. "I saw how near collapse you were—"

"I was _not_," Edwin said.

"You _were_. And what's more, Derek and Casey have both told me about how you tried to hide it from Lizzie," George continued. "Casey said that you switched on and off like that electronic dog Marti has. Now I know that you were trying to be considerate, to stop Lizzie from worrying, and that's a sweet thing to do, certainly, but it wasn't too healthy to pretend to be okay when you weren't. It just made it worse for you later, because it's actually a habit you have, hiding your feelings." 

"Are you really listening to Derek and Casey?" Edwin asked. "'Cause you know, they don't exaggerate or anything."

"They're concerned," George said. "Because they know you, and more than that, they love you. We all love you. Okay?"

"Ooohkay," Edwin said. "I love you guys too."

"Good to know," George said. _Good to know?_ He thought. _What kinda stupid thing to say is that?_ "And I want you to remember that you _are_ fifteen. That means that you're entitled to help with a lot more stuff than you normally get help with. A grownup would need help with this weekend. Nora and I have done our share of freaking out, and so as I'm sure you can imagine, have Derek and Casey. And so will Marti when we tell her. I'll be throwing myself on her mercy when she finds out. It's okay to pitch a fit and if you feel one coming on, don't suppress it. I will be reminding you about this if I need to."

"Thanks for the warning," Edwin said.

Part Four: Derek.

He came in from ordering the food and took the total lack of sleeping people as an opportunity to hop back into his chair, which almost tipped over. Casey, who had migrated to the very edge of one of the couch cushions, laughed at him. 

"You're just the picture of grace," Casey said.

"Thank you," Derek said. "Klutzilla, My Love."

Casey groaned. Then she giggled a little. "What do you think everyone's up to?" When Derek's father cut through the living room a few minutes before, they knew what he'd been after. Derek knew what his Dad's lecture face looked like better than anyone else in the world.

"Um—" Derek said.

"I mean I know that Mom and George are in lecture mode," Casey said. "But do you think it's working?"

"One way to find out," Derek said, getting up from his chair again. "Which one do you want?"

"We can't eavesdrop," Casey said.

"No?" Derek asked. He felt her forehead.

"Derek, be serious," Casey said.

"But I'm Derek," Derek joked.

"No, I mean it," Casey said. "This feels a little too serious for us to play around with."

"Who's playing?" Derek asked. "I mean, have I mentioned how much I hate waiting?"

"Once or twice," Casey said dryly.

"Things That Piss Edwin Off," Derek announced. "What do you got?"

"I thought we abandoned that plan," Casey said.

"Not completely," Derek said. "We said it was a last resort. That implies that we still need to have stuff ready in case we need it."

"But—"

"It's either that or we eavesdrop," Derek said.

"It really ticks him off when you manipulate him," Casey said, mouth tight.

"Okay," Derek said.

"I was being sarcastic," Casey said.

"I know," Derek said. "But it works anyway. What else?"

"When you underestimate his intelligence," Casey said.

"Again with the sarcasm that still works perfectly," Derek said. "One of the many reasons I keep you around."

"You're an ass," Casey said. "Can you please stop messing around."

"I'm not," Derek said. "I'm completely serious. You can't tell me that you've never been manipulated even when you knew you were being manipulated. Both of the 'rents are world class at it. My Mom is world class at it. I'm guessing that your Dad is, too. It's in the parenting manual."

"We're not parents," Casey said.

"Yeah," Derek said. "But I like to play to my strengths. You yourself have told me a million times that I have a talent for making people want to smack me. I think it's time I've used my powers for good instead of evil."

"Derek," Casey said, in that infuriating "I'm talking to a child whose shoes are on the wrong feet" way that she had. "I know that you want to help anyway that you can. You're willing to do anything to help your brother. I get that. But I'm trying to think of the way that I'd react to this kind of thing. Or the way that you would react to this, and I'm telling you none of it's pretty."

"We're not exactly going for pretty here," Derek said.

"I mean I'm worried that it won't work, and maybe do more harm than good," Casey said.

"That's why it's not the lead off strategy," Derek said.

Casey opened her mouth to argue with him, but then closed it again.

"Why don't you just trust me on this," Derek said. "I don't wanna do it. God knows I don't wanna do it. I think I'm gonna just dump my freakin' Italian combo into the toilet and cut out the middleman 'cause it ain't staying down if I have to do it."

"And I know how you are about your Italian combo," Casey said. "Though how you can eat that stuff is beyond me."

"Have you ever actually tried it?" Derek asked.

"Ham and salami at the same time?" Casey said. 

"Don't forget the cappicola," Derek said. 

"What's that?"

"Not sure," Derek said.

Part Five: Edwin.

There had been times in the past when Edwin thought that he was pretty near invisible. As the middle child for most of his life, he tended to get lost in the shuffle. On that day, he half wished that it were true. It would have been good to freak out in relative privacy, because he felt a level of embarrassment that he thought he'd never reach.

Still if he'd ever needed convincing about his place in the scheme of things, he'd gotten good and convinced. He filed the information away for later. His brain wouldn't accept it right then. 

After his Dad let him go, he went looking for Lizzie, who luckily had gone looking for him. They met up by the stairs, moving aside just long enough to let Dad pass by.

They went into Lizzie's room and sat on her bed.

"Did you get the talk, too?" Edwin asked.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "Well, not _the_ talk, but a talk."

"Ew," Edwin said. "Hadn't even thought of that."

"On the up side," Lizzie said. "We're off of dish duty for the rest of the weekend."

"Sweet," Edwin said. "And you thought this weekend was a total bust."

Lizzie laughed.

"So where's this guy with my spaghetti?" Edwin asked. "How long's it been?" 

"Shouldn't be too much longer," Lizzie said. 

As often happens, the food came right around the time Derek picked up the phone to call Peppito's and complain. 

Literally, he picked up the phone and said "Yeah I called almost an hour ago for a delivery and..." 

And the bell rang.

"Never mind," Derek said. "It's here." And suddenly the delivery guy was his best friend. Dad paid and carried the bags to the table, trailing the smell of garlic and mozzarella behind him.

"That's the stuff," Edwin said, cracking Lizzie up again. 

"That _is_ the stuff," Lizzie said. 

The only problem was the eyes that Edwin felt on him. Just to make sure that he wasn't being paranoid, he spent a little extra time winding his pasta, something one shouldn't rush to begin with. He toyed with it for a minute even though he was dying to attack it the way Garfield attacks lasagna. 

Sure enough, everyone stopped what they were doing to see if the food made it to his mouth. He was pretty sure that he imagined the sigh of relief that came when he finally did take a bite. 

_Aww, sweet garlicky tomato bliss_, Edwin thought. No matter what was going on, he could always eat. He thought about Garfield again as he almost stuffed an entire meatball into his mouth. 

"Ed-win," Casey said. She looked a little grossed out. 

"Yeah," Derek said with his mouth full so that it sounded like "Rweah." 

"That's disgusting!" Derek finished. A little bit of lettuce fell out of his mouth. 

"Ew," Casey said. "I'm surrounded."

Edwin was sorta hoping that Lizzie would do something gross next, but she never quite got the hang of being gross on purpose. So she refrained. 

_Too bad Marti's not here_, Edwin thought. She was starting to get good at belching. But she'd be home the next day to make up for lost time.

And just like that Edwin fooled himself into thinking that things were back to normal. Until of course he ended up staring at his ceiling again.


	7. Chapter 7

Closet Monsters

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Seven.

Part One: George.

George drank three cups of coffee before his youngest was due home. Nora ran out early to take care of the grocery shopping before the kids got up. He was spooning coffee into a filter for another pot when the back door opened and Marti came bouncing in, her mother close behind. She started to hug him around the waist, the way she always did, but he crouched down and held her until she began to squirm and complain that she couldn't breathe. He couldn't help it; he felt huggy this weekend.

"Did you eat?" George asked.

"Uh-huh," Marti said. "We had pancakes and stuff. Is Lizzie up yet? We got this at the zoo for her." She pulled a stuffed leopard out of a gift bag that Abby handed her.

"And I made her a card," Marti finished.

It didn't take much to figure out that Abby had told her about at least some of what had happened.

"I'm not sure if she's up yet, Marti," George said. "Why don't you go peek?"

"Okay," Marti said. She took the bag upstairs with her.

"If she's asleep, don't wake her up okay?" George called after her.

"Duh," Marti said. "What do you think I am, some little kid?"

He stifled a laugh at that. He turned toward Abby, who still had her coat on as she stood by the door.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"Maybe a little," Abby said.

"It'll be ready in a minute or so," he said, setting up a cup with sugar and half and half for her.

He leaned against the counter. "You told her already," he said.

"Yeah," Abby said. "She knew something was up. I didn't see any point in keeping it from her."

"She didn't flip out?" George asked.

"I put a little spin on it," Abby said. "We were at the zoo already when you called, so I just sat her on a bench and told her. I kept emphasizing the fact that Lizzie was okay, and home already, and that she didn't want any fuss made. At first, she wanted to come back home, but I remembered all you said about Lizzie blaming herself for everything in the world, and I figured you didn't want one more kid freaking out, so I kinda talked her into staying. She asked if we could buy Lizzie that leopard and take lots of pictures of the animals for her to take her mind off things."

"I was kinda preparing for the worst," George said. "The way this weekend's been going, that would've been the icing on the cake. Not that I wouldn't have deserved it."

"Yeah," Abby said. "But sometimes they surprise you. We really do have some good kids, don't we?"

"We do," George said, pouring her coffee and handing it off.

"They really care about each other," Abby said.

"Yeah," George said. "That's part of the reason that we're all pretty equally exhausted."

"I can only imagine Derek," Abby said. "How frantic was he?"

"Pretty frantic," George said. "But you wouldn't believe how well he handled things. And Edwin..."

"Him too," Abby said. "He handled things perfectly while pretending he _wasn't _frantic, right?"

"Yep," George said. "I'm actually a little worried about him. He hasn't been sleeping. Lizzie's had a couple of nightmares, so she isn't sleeping as well as she could either. But Edwin is barely sleeping at all."

"Eating?" Abby asked.

"Yeah, he _is_ eating," George said. "But that could change."

Abby nodded. None of this was new. Both boys had a certain amount of trouble dealing with anxiety and it was getting more and more clear that the problem wasn't going away on its own.

Part Two: Edwin.

Edwin ran a hand through his wet hair to get it off of his forehead and flicked some shaving cream off of his ear lobe. How it ended up on his actual ear, and how he'd missed it until that moment, he didn't know. He tended to be special that way. When he checked the collar of his t-shirt, he found a little spot of shaving cream on it, too.

"Can't take me anywhere," he said to the bathroom mirror as he checked to see if he missed anything. He did his daily unibrow check, something that he hadn't been able to manage the day before. He satisfied himself that he still had two eyebrows, checked the corners of his mouth for toothpaste and decided that he was okay to venture downstairs.

All in all, he felt about three hundred percent better than he had the day before. He'd had four or five whole hours of sleep. He felt like he could do brain surgery.

When he got into the hall, he heard some unmistakable laughter from downstairs. From the sound of it, Derek was doing his best to crack their mother up. Which meant that Smarti was home, too. He had just enough time to realize that, when Marti herself saw him, from the open doorway of Lizzie's room. She and Lizzie were hanging out on the bed, and when Edwin passed, Marti hopped up and went for him.

"Oof," Edwin said as Marti crashed into him. It wasn't a Marti hug until someone "oofed." He held her for a minute, until she wiggled away.

"Everybody keeps _doing_ that," Marti said. "Even _Lizzie_." Edwin looked over to the bed, where Lizzie sat, looking a little embarrassed.

"And how _you_ doin'?" Edwin asked, trying for Joey Tribiani and ending up with something closer to John Dorian.

"Aiight," Lizzie said. Marti looked from one to the other and shook her head.

She sat back down on Lizzie's bed, picking up a stuffed snow leopard that Edwin hadn't seen before.

"So, what's his name, Liz?" she asked.

"I dunno," Lizzie said. "What's his name?"

"He's your guy, so _you_ gotta name him," Marti said.

"How bout Edwin Jr.?" Edwin piped up.

Marti gave him a look of exasperation inherited directly from their mother. Derek had it, too, but Edwin had never been able to get it right. It must have skipped a generation.

Lizzie laughed. Edwin tried to aim some indignance at the both of them.

"Aanyway," Marti said, changing the subject. The strategic use of the 'anyway' was pure Casey. "Are you coming with us to get Lizzie's new cell phone? Lizzie said I could help pick one out."

"Shopping for electronics," Edwin said. "Hmmm let me think." He rubbed his chin.

"Give me twenty minutes," Lizzie said. She grabbed a towel and disappeared into the bathroom.

Edwin took a moment to wonder whether it should worry him that his girlfriend took less time in the bathroom than he did. Meanwhile, she was acting like it was no big whoop but this would be the first time she went out in public since the attack and she'd have to deal with all kinds of questions. He was sure that she'd be okay, but the idea that she'd have to deal with any of it still really pissed him off.

Part Three: Lizzie.

After her shower, she went into Casey's room to borrow some hair goo. Casey tried to push some concealer on her.

"No thanks," Lizzie said.

"You sure?" Casey asked.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. She hated that crap; it was greasy and she was too young for it. So was Casey for that matter. And their Mom. And anyone who hadn't been embalmed. And anyway, it wouldn't do much to cover her bruises. All it would do is look like a sad attempt at covering bruises.

"Okay," Casey said. She knew better than to argue. Lizzie knew that if Casey'd been attacked, she'd be caking the stuff on until the end of the world, as if a couple of bruises that were in no way your fault were anything to be ashamed of. Not that Lizzie couldn't imagine a few situations in which a person would be ashamed (again, even if it wasn't her fault) and want to cover them, she could, but this just didn't seem like one of them.

Derek went to work early, but when Lizzie and Casey came downstairs, Abby was still there, nursing some coffee. She was watching Edwin pretty closely which meant George had told her that Ed wasn't sleeping too well. Then when she saw Lizzie, it became pretty obvious that she was trying hard not to make the same fuss that everyone else made, though she really wanted to. Lizzie was grateful that Abby tried to pay attention to her feelings and not make too big of a deal.

"So tell me that you're not taking George with you to pick out a phone," Abby said.

"Hey!" George said.

"Nooo," Lizzie said. "Mom's taking us."

"Nora knows _all_ about electronics," George told Abby dryly.

"Hey!" Casey said.

"She at least has to know as much as you do," Abby said. "Can't possibly know less."

"Busted," Edwin said.

"That's why Edwin's coming," Lizzie said.

"It's why they keep me around," Edwin said.

"That and your dancing," Lizzie said.

Edwin made a little noise of protest that was cut off by Lizzie squeezing him.

"Mommeee," Edwin squeaked.

"As if you want rescuing," Abby said. "And if you did I'd worry about you."

"Oh help," Edwin deadpanned. "Saaaave me."

"That's more like it," Abby said. She talked to them about nothing in particular until Lizzie's Mom got back with the groceries.

"Nora!" Edwin said, properly happy to see her. "What's for dinner?"

"Hello to you too, Edwin," Mom said. "And how has your morning been so far?"

Edwin winked; Mom smirked.

Edwin held his arms out for a hug and got a grocery bag instead.

"For me?" Edwin said. "Frozen peas? Just what I wanted." He went over to the fridge and started putting stuff away. Mom ruffled his hair, then went down the line and gave everyone quick assembly line kisses. She gave Abby a quick hug.

"Boys, you know?" Mom said.

"Boys," Abby agreed. They both looked at George, eyes narrowed.

"Suuure," George said. "Look at me. It's all my fault."

"'Least you admit it," Casey said.

"So," Mom said after they'd put the food away. "You guys ready or what?"

"Liz," Mom said. "Grab a CD for the ride."

"Oooh," Edwin teased. Lizzie almost never got to pick the music.

"Such power," Lizzie said. "What'll I do?"

"Want a suggestion?" Edwin asked.

"No," Lizzie said.

She grabbed Nelly Furtado off the shelf on her way out.

On the way to the store, Mom, Marti, Casey, and Lizzie herself sang along. Edwin cringed theatrically from his spot in the backseat.

"Could be worse," Lizzie said, as they hopped out of the car.

"How?" Edwin asked.

"Could be Derek," Lizzie said. "Picture that, Ed. Derek singing 'I'm Like a Bird.'"

"Brrr" Edwin said. "Nora! Your daughter is committing acts of mental torture."

"We have taught her well," Mom said.

Part Four: Nora.

Nora led the kids through the mall and up to Musicville instead of the big box store because their carrier seemed to favor the place. Phones were cheaper and the selection was oddly better in the tiny store. Plus, she knew that there'd be fewer people milling around.

She had totally forgotten that Derek's friend Ralph worked there. He startled just the tiniest bit when he saw them, especially Lizzie, but recovered quickly enough to make Nora suspect that Derek had called him at some point and told him about the weekend they'd been having.

"Ladies," Ralph said, coming up to them. "(And Edwin). How you doing today?"

_God bless him_, Nora thought. Once she told him what they wanted, he led them over to the phone display and showed a ridiculous amount of knowledge about them. He and Edwin bantered back and forth about features, both kids trying to keep the tone light. Really the only sign that Ralph had noticed Lizzie's cuts and bruises was a slight knitting of his eyebrows whenever Lizzie wasn't looking at him.

"Okay, guys?" Casey said after a minute or two of listening to the boys. "This is gonna be _Lizzie's_ phone. Don't you think she can be trusted to pick it out?"

"Thank you, Casey," Lizzie said.

"Pick the red one," Casey said.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Lemme see this one," she said, picking one up and playing with it for a second. She snapped a picture of Ralph and Edwin and looked at the display, asking a few questions about capacity and battery life.

"What's the difference between these two?" Lizzie asked.

"This one comes in red," Ralph said.

Casey gave him a dirty look. Nora tried not to laugh.

"But the other one has an mp3 player," Ralph said.

"Meh," Lizzie said. "Don't need that. The red one also comes in black, right?"

"Yep," Ralph said.

"What do you think, Mom?"

"How much?" Nora asked.

Ralph punched a couple of commands into the computer, and came up with a price. It was way lower than Nora had expected.

"Sure you don't want red?" Casey asked.

"Yep," Lizzie said. "Black."

Ralph disappeared for a minute and came back with a box. He went through the longish, boring process of activating it, but traded jokes with Marti and Edwin while they all waited. Casey did her best to pretend that she didn't know them. Lizzie went to another display to pick accessories as part of the package. She grabbed a new case and an earpiece and brought it back to the counter.

"Okay, so when you get this home," Ralph began.

"Yeah, I know, plug it in, don't use it till after they call me to say it's activated," Lizzie said.

"You know, Liz, it took me a really long time to memorize all the stuff I need to tell people," Ralph said. "The least you can do is let me do it." He pouted.

"Poor Ralphie," Lizzie said. "Go 'head."

He pretended to think for a second. "That's it. I think." He scratched his head.

Nora had been thinking that the whole transaction was turning out to be relatively quick and painless when she was sent to the register to pay. The girl behind the counter gawked openly at Lizzie as if she were standing there with her guts spilling out over the top of her jeans. _It's a couple of bruises, honey,_ Nora thought. _Not roadkill._

Edwin went into protective mode, pulling Lizzie close, but she stared right back at the clerk.

Ralph, while pretending to be oblivious, put things back on track.

"Trish," Ralph said.

Her eyes snapped over to where Ralph was standing. He smiled at her. "Don't forget to put my code in, okay? I wanna actually get paid this week."

"Sure," Trish said punching in a few numbers then taking Nora's credit card.

As soon as they'd gotten past the doors, Lizzie groaned.

"What?" Nora said, alarmed for a second.

"Trish Anderson," Lizzie said.

"Oh," Nora said. "What about her?"

"She's in grade eleven," Casey said. "She might be a little gossipy."

"Heh. A little gossipy," Edwin said. "That's like saying that King Kong was a cheeky monkey."

"By Monday, she's gonna have me at death's door," Lizzie said.

"And when you walk into class on your own steam, won't people know that she's not the most reliable of sources?" Nora said.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "But it's still gonna suck."

"Aww, poor Lizard," Nora said, stroking her hair a little. "Do you wanna stay home?"

"Nah," Lizzie said. "People'll start taping flowers to my locker if I do. I really don't wanna make this into any more of a thing than it has to be."

"Okay," Nora said. "Fair enough."

They walked past a few stores and as always, the kids started thinking of things that they needed and next thing Nora knew, she was handing out cash. It felt like a typical Sunday.

After they gathered at the exit, Nora turned to Lizzie.

"Ready to go home?" she asked.

"Do we have to?" Lizzie asked.

_Thought so_, Nora said to herself.

"I could go for a veggie burger," Casey said.

"Ew," Marti said.

"Or a tuna melt," Lizzie said.

"Some chili fries?" Edwin asked.

"Ew!" Casey said.

"Smelly Nellie's?" Nora asked.

"I dunno," Edwin said. "The service has gone way downhill lately."

Casey giggled. "I love how you talk real big when you're out _here_," she said. "But what would happen to you at home if you didn't leave Derek a 20 percent tip?"

"He'd get it out of my wallet while I was asleep," Edwin said. "Just like always."

Marti giggled.

"I keep telling you to hide it," Lizzie said.

"If I hid it, he'd just wake me up and noogie me till I told him where it was," Edwin said. "This way, I get to sleep."

Nora hoped they were kidding. Or else she'd need to have a talk with George.

Casey called shotgun and nobody argued with her. Marti sat as far up against the window in the backseat as she could, to give Lizzie and Edwin snuggle room. Nora was sure of this because Marti never seemed to tire of watching them. Or Casey and Derek for that matter. She turned toward them as much as the seatbelt would let her and watched Edwin sling an arm around Lizzie's shoulder, which was about all the seatbelts would allow. Nora was all for romance, just as long as it didn't affect her children or interfere with automotive safety.

In Smelly Nellie's parking lot, Nora couldn't stop herself.

"Are you sure you're okay, Lizard?" she asked.

Lizzie, to her credit, tried not to roll her eyes. "Yes, Mom," she said.

As "okay" as Lizzie was, Edwin still kept his arm around her as they walked to the door.

"Oh, it's just you," Derek said, when they came through the door. The cashier, who looked new, looked up in shock.

"Love you too, Derek," Nora said. The cashier nodded in understanding and went back to what he was doing.

"Yeah, yeah yeah," Derek said. He grabbed some menus, though they probably wouldn't need them, and set them onto a nearby table. "Sit. _Stay_."

Casey made a kissy noise. Derek winked and pulled out her chair for her.

"Hey," Marti said, waiting by her own chair.

"Sorry, Smarti," Derek said, pulling her chair out, too.

Nora toyed with the idea of demanding the same, but decided against it, grabbing her own seat. Ed and Lizzie seemed oblivious to the display, both sitting down and burying their heads in their menus. Nora heard a stomach growl and was comforted by the normality and predictability of the little bottomless pits with hair that sat at the table with her.

Part Six: Casey.

Lizzie was being very cool and collected, but Casey knew better than to buy any of it. Lizzie was ridiculously smart. She knew what she was in for, with the story of her attack having probably spread with the speed of a chocolate milk stain on white pants. Casey was not allowed to discuss it with her; as far as she knew, no one was, but Casey still knew what her sister was thinking.

There would be people coming up to her any minute to ask stupid, obvious questions and Lizzie was going to have to deal with them. Knowing this, and knowing that they all would have let her stay home a couple of days until the bruises faded a little, she still wanted to go out.

Casey would not have been anywhere near as brave as that. She would have required dragging out of the house.

Immediately, as predicted, a woman they didn't know stopped by the table.

"Sweetie, what happened to you?" the woman asked.

_And you are?_ Casey wondered.

"I was mugged," Lizzie said, sheepishly. "But it's okay."

Edwin snuggled a little closer to her. Casey wasn't sure that he was even aware he was doing it. Derek did the same thing sometimes, if they were in unfamiliar territory, for example. It could be a little annoying sometimes, but also comforting.

Meanwhile, if Edwin got any closer to Lizzie, he'd end up in her lap.

This woman petted Lizzie's hair like she was a stray kitten. This was the type of woman who cooed over random people's babies, Casey guessed. Nobody felt comfortable telling her to get lost, so they sat tight and she was gone in a couple of minutes anyway.

_At least she's nice_, Casey thought.

After she left, Lizzie caught Casey's eye and both girls shrugged. _One down_, Casey thought, _who knows how many to go._

Derek brought extra pickles and coleslaw to the table, something that had to have been Pablo's idea. Derek's idea had been to toss a couple extra cherries atop the mountain of whipped cream on the sundae Lizzie ordered.

All in all, it wasn't as bad as Casey had been expecting, but then again, she'd been told (repeatedly) that she tended to make things seem way worse than they were. Not that this realization stopped her from trying to keep an eye on the entire room at once.

"Casey," Lizzie said, after Casey's umpteenth sweep of the restaurant. "You're embarrassing me."

"Yeah," Casey said. "What else is new?"

Lizzie snickered.

"You know, you're supposed to disagree with me about that," Casey said.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "Right."

Casey stuck her tongue out at her and reached to steal a cherry off her sundae. Lizzie held up her fork threateningly, but Casey was too quick for her.

"Teach you not to appreciate your gorgeous older sis," Casey said.

"I already know how, thanks," Lizzie said.

"Knew you were gonna say that," Edwin said.

While Lizzie's head was turned, Marti stole her last cherry.

They all got home without too much drama or too many stares. Casey berated herself some more for her overactive imagination. She pictured parades of gawkers, instead of the one or two that they got.

_Even though it pays to be able to imagine the worst case scenario_, Casey told herself. It's kept her out of trouble in the past. Though it's given her more than her fair share of _agita_ in the past too.

Derek loved to make fun of her for it. As if he didn't do the same thing. He just hid it better.

Casey hoped, as she knocked the nearest piece of wood, that they were getting off lucky. Lizzie had gone through something horrible, but she was handling it surprisingly well. Everybody knew that it wasn't over, though.

Part Seven: Derek

Lizzie and Edwin had been given the weekend off from chores. In theory Derek was all for this. Except that he got roped into dish and garbage duty. Because he'd just finished an eight hour shift, the last thing he needed was to clean up some more messes. At least he got paid at the _rest_aurant.

But he shut up about it, more or less.

"So, this cheese," Derek said, scrubbing at a dish. "Do we need to sandblast it off, or what?"

"Let it soak for a minute," Nora said. She'd been lingering over her coffee, but Derek suspected that she was watching him, because he only did dishes once every year and a half or so. She probably thought it was an event not to be missed.

"Why don't we have a dishwasher again?"

"Do you see any room in here for a dishwasher?" Nora asked. "Besides, George would say that we have about five dishwashers."

"Yeah," Derek said. "He keeps saying that, thinking that someday we'll actually laugh. Freakin' Parmesan!" It got stuck in the tines of the forks, too.

"Why don't you take a break?" Nora asked.

"Why don't I?" Derek said.

"Yeah," Nora said. "Taking out the garbage would be a nice change of pace."

He narrowed his eyes at her and she grinned. He pulled the top off the trash bin with a flourish.

"I was kidding," Nora said.

"I know better than to put my daily serving of gruel in jeopardy," Derek said.

"Sit down," Nora said.

"I may as well get this over with," Derek said. The stink of the garbage smacked him in the face as he tried to tie the bag shut.

"Are you guys sacrificing small animals without telling me again?" Derek asked.

"We didn't wanna wake you up," Nora said.

He went out to the garage to drag the cans to the curb for pickup in the morning. He knocked one of the three over, cursing under his breath as it went down, picturing an explosion of crud that he'd be expected to clean up. It would have been some sort of karmic payback for all the times he pawned this job off on Edwin. Luckily for him, though, only a couple of small bags fell out and neither one burst.

It was the second one that caught his attention. It was too light to be anything but clothing. He tore a little hole in the top to see what it was.

_Crap_, he thought, preparing for more drama as he quickly stuffed the rest of the garbage into the cans and popped on the lids.

"Hey Nora?" he said as he got back inside.

"What's up?" Nora said, looking up from her coffee.

Derek ripped the bag open with some difficulty. Lizzie really knew how to tie a knot. He held up part of her _taekwondo_ thingee (he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was called) for Nora to see.

"It was in the trash?" Nora asked.

"Yup," Derek said. "What're you going to do?"

"Did anything leak on it?"Nora asked.

Derek pulled it out the rest of the way, resting the pants on the table and checking out the top part. Both looked more or less okay but smelled a little musty from being in the bottom of that trash can.

"Seems okay," Derek said.

"Okay," Nora said. "I'll toss it into the wash."

"That's it?" Derek said.

"What else?" Nora said.

"You're not gonna talk to her?" Derek asked. "Maybe about how she's _going_ back to _taekwondo_ next weekend and she'll need this thingee..."

"_Gi,_" Nora said.

"Okay," Derek said, "She'll need her _gi_ when she goes."

"Can't _make_ her go back," Nora said.

"No?" Derek asked. They made_ him_ do things all the time.

"No," Nora said. "What I can do is wash the_ gi_ and keep it handy for her if she decides that she wants it."

Derek looked at her and waited for the punchline. This was a situation that called for at least a lecture. One of those lectures where Nora and Dad asked questions that the lecturee (usually Derek, but this time Lizzie) didn't know how to answer.

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna just let it hang," Nora said. "Now's just not a good time."

When Derek still didn't look convinced, she asked. "Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," he said. He did.

"Okay then," Nora said. "Now don't you have homework to do?"

"Homework?" Derek asked. "What is this home...work of which you speak?"

Nora raised an eyebrow.

"Relax," Derek said. "I did it." It was nearing the end of grade twelve. Did she really think he had a lot to do?

"Okay," Nora said. She didn't give him a hard time, knowing that Casey would nag him enough for both of them, if she had to. Nora held out her arms, and Derek toyed with the idea of inching away in fear, but knew that he really wasn't kidding anyone with that anymore, especially _this_ weekend. He stepped into the hug.


	8. Chapter 8

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Eight.

Part One: Lizzie.

First period, Lizzie was called into the office where she was met by Mrs. Weinstock, who was one of the school counselors. Lizzie'd been kinda hoping to meet Paul, having heard so much about him. But, as it was, Mrs. Weinstock seemed pretty much okay.

She didn't waste any time.

"Unfortunately, I'm about to ask you several stupid questions," she began. "Bear with me."

"Uh-huh," Lizzie said.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Um," Lizzie said. "Okay."

"Okay," Mrs. Weinstock said. She grinned and it was a little contagious, so Lizzie grinned back. It helped that the older woman had completely uncontrollable hair that she kept pushing out of her eyes. "Care to elaborate?" she asked.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Weinstock held a hand up to halt her.

"Okay," she said. "I've heard about how Edwin, Casey, Derek, Marti, your parents and assorted friends are dealing with your attack."

"Yeah," Lizzie said.

"How are _you_ dealing with it?"

"I'm okay," Lizzie said. "People have been pretty cool, I guess, and they've been trying to make me feel better."

"And do you feel better?"

"Yeah,"Lizzie said. "I'm actually more worried about everyone else."

"Why's that?"

"I told you," Lizzie said. "They're all basketcases."

"But doesn't there come a time where you should take care of _you_?"

_Seriously?_ Lizzie thought. _Has she heard a word I've said?_

"Right this minute there's nothing to do," Lizzie said. "I'm really okay for now."

"For now?"

"Yes," Lizzie said, trying to be patient. "I mean, I'm not saying everything's perfect. I still don't know whether I have to go to court or what, but I just can't worry about that right now. I'm trying to be normal, and it doesn't help that everyone keeps making a big deal—"

"It's not a big deal?" Mrs. Weinstock asked.

"Yeah," Lizzie said, a little guiltily. "It _is_, but I just wish people would stop asking how I am."

Mrs. Weinstock said nothing for a minute, probably waiting for Lizzie to talk some more, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

"And today, for example, what have you been wanting to say to people who ask you questions?"

"Um," Lizzie said.

"You can be honest," Weinstock said. "No one in here but us chickens. And I have to keep everything you say between us."

Lizzie knew that that wasn't entirely true, but since she didn't feel like a threat to herself or anyone else (_Unless you count that one guy whose balls I ruptured_, she thought), she felt safe enough.

Lizzie thought for a minute, and said, "Back off?"

"Are you asking or telling?"

"Actually that's a little harsh," Lizzie said.

"But is it how you feel?"

"Sometimes, yeah," Lizzie said. "I love everybody, and I know they love me, but Jeez already. And then my Dad called last night and said he was flying up and I told him no 'cause enough people are hovering over me as it is."

Mrs. Weinstock nodded a bit, an "a-ha" look on her face. Like it was some sort of revelation that Lizzie didn't much like it when people hovered. But she let the counselor have her little breakthrough, knowing that as much as she didn't want to be there, the woman was _trying_ to help.

She let Lizzie go shortly before the bell rang for second period. Edwin was waiting for her. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and she recognized it as an appointment slip like the one she'd gotten.

"How'd yours go?" he asked.

"You too?" Lizzie asked.

"Yup." Edwin looked exactly as annoyed as she felt.

"I guess it was okay," Lizzie said. "I wasn't in the mood for any of it. How 'bout yours? Who'd you get?"

"Paul," he said.

"You got Paul??" Lizzie said.

"I expected him to look way older," Edwin said. "Tired, ya know? Like Gandalf at the end of _Return of the King_."

Lizzie snorted.

"But he was pretty cool," Edwin said. "Who'd you get?"

"Mrs. Weinstock," Lizzie said. "With all the hair?"

Edwin nodded and put his arm around her to walk her to second period.

Part Two: Sam.

Earlier.

Derek didn't ask. He didn't have to. Both Sam and Ralph knew that they would have certain responsibilities in the next few days. Namely, they were to help watch the niners to make sure that no one gave Lizzie a hard time. Their second job was to try stop both Derek and Casey from going into an overprotective frenzy, the way they always did.

And of course Sheldon and Emily were right there with them.

"Okay, so I'm guessing I should go take that roll of bubble wrap away from Casey before she wraps Lizzie in it?" Sheldon asked.

"Ooh," Ralph said. "She has bubble wrap?"

Everybody looked at him.

"You know you love it, too," Ralph said. "Pop, pop, pop."

"Anyway," Sam said. "Everybody know what to do?"

He got blank looks.

"Me neither," Sam said. "Just try to keep your eyes open, kay? And try not to make it look like you're watching."

"Yeah, about that," Sheldon said. "I'm not that good at subtlety."

"That's okay," Emily said. "I am."

"No you're not," Sheldon said.

"Well," Emily said. "_Sam_ is."

"Do the best you can," Sam said, cracking a smile.

The morning was pretty uneventful, thankfully. Derek drove, which meant that the four of them made it in after the first bell rang, and no one had time to bother Lizzie or Edwin as they ran like hell to homeroom.

"Niners," Derek said as he made his way over to Sam and Ralph, neither of whom were in any hurry either. "_Look_ at them. It's like watching an ant farm."

"Were we ever like that?" Ralph asked.

"Never," Derek said. "_Casey_ was."

"_Was_?" Ralph asked.

"Is," Derek said, nodding. Edwin followed Lizzie to her homeroom before he took off downstairs to his, and Derek's eyes followed both until Sam dragged him inside to their own homeroom.

"In ya go, Papa Bear," Sam said.

"Bite me," Derek said.

So things were pretty normal, Sam thought, and he was almost lulled into a sense of security until lunch, when the rumor finally worked its way over to him.

It took so long because Sam didn't know that listening to gossip was going to be part of the plan. Tuning it out was second nature. It took a near frantic Emily and Casey to wake him up.

Casey, in usual Casey fashion said, "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God!" She fanned herself with one hand.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Oh my God!" Casey said.

"_What_?" Sam asked.

"It's okay," Emily said. "We're gonna figure it out. Like right now."

"Do I have to buy a damn _tick_et to find out what in the hell you're talking about?!" Sam asked. His voice went higher than it had in five or six years.

Emily looked at him for a second in disbelief. Then she told him: "Someone started a rumor about Lizzie..."

"Shit," Sam said. "That was fast."

"And Edwin..." Emily said.

Sam stared at her, not catching the drift.

"They said that _Edwin_ beat up Lizzie," Emily said.

Having known both parties for as long as he had, this was the last thing Sam expected to hear.

"Shit," Sam said, barely suppressing some really inappropriate laughter. "Someone actually _said_ this?"

Casey nodded.

"And people _believe_ it?" Sam asked.

"I know," Emily said. "It's just about the stupidest thing I've heard in my life. I mean, it's _Edwin_, for God's sake. But when does that ever stop people?"

"Does it matter?" Casey asked. "It's still gonna get back to them."

"If it hasn't already," Emily said.

"Oh God!" Casey groaned.

Sam scanned the cafeteria for Derek and Ralph, who really should've been there by then.

"Maybe we shouldn't tell Derek yet," Emily said. Emily was a hope for the best and plan for the worst kind of girl, so she probably expected Derek to get his silly ass expelled two months before graduation.

"Gotta tell him," Sam said. "One of us will take him somewhere, tell him, and let him lose his shit, and then he'll be okay."

"You think so?" Emily said.

Casey nodded. "Sam's right," she said.

"I always am," he said, trying to lighten the mood, but nobody laughed.

"So we tell him," Sam said. "Soon as we find him." He pulled out his phone, and Emily pulled out hers.

Part Three: Sheldon.

Sheldon got the feeling that he was going to get his ass kicked imminently. It wasn't like it had never happened before. It was a skill he didn't think he would lose. Even if he _was_ a little rusty since his last growth spurt.

He'd been running late for lunch; that was part of the reason he was currently trying to remember how to take a punch. Emily, love of his life, (_She will remember me fondly and put stones on my grave_, he thought,) messaged him, hoping that he had a chance to try to find Derek, who also hadn't made it to the cafeteria, so he could break some really unpleasant news to him. Or, failing that, he was supposed to try to keep Derek out of trouble until someone else, preferably Casey could get to him.

Sheldon found Derek and Ralph at Ralph's locker, and, by the looks of both of them, they hadn't heard anything yet.

"Dude," Derek said to Ralph. "Screw the flash drive. You can email me the new logo later. I'm hungry."

"Wait, wait, wait?"Ralph said, shoulder deep in backpack. "No...yeah! Got it!" He held up a little flash drive in victory.

Derek shook his head. "You have cash, right?"

Ralph had been closing up his bag, but then moved to open it again. Derek groaned, but then Ralph patted his back pocket and found his wallet there.

"I'm good," Ralph said.

"_I'm_ going to die of starvation," Derek said.

"Um?" Sheldon said. Both boys looked at him.

"This better not be something that's going to keep me from my lunch, bro," Derek said.

"I make no promises," Sheldon said.

"What?" Derek said.

Sheldon told him. It might have taken a couple of false starts. And babbling. "--And Ed and Lizzie get lunch in probably half an hour, right? I'm guessing someone has to talk to them before they hear any of this right?" His voice stayed on pitch through absolutely none of this, and he kept instinctively turning his head to the side, anticipating the hit that (thank God) didn't come.

Derek looked too calm. That wasn't good either.

"Did you hear what I said?" Sheldon asked.

"Yup," Derek said. He took a swing at a locker, but Ralph stopped him before he could break his hand.

"Not a fair fight dude," Ralph said. "Locker always wins."

"So what do we do?" Sheldon asked, not that he thought people were necessarily listening. "Go to the office, see if we can get the two of them pulled out of class for a sec?"

"Yeah, that'll work," Derek said. "How's the weather in Fantasyland, Schlep?"

"Okaaay..." Sheldon said.

"Not cool," Ralph said to Derek.

"Got any _other_ ideas then?" Sheldon asked.

Derek paused, thinking it over. "Guess we gotta go to the office."

Part Four: Derek.

Derek went into the main office, Sheldon and Ralph somewhere behind him, he really didn't check. He also didn't notice at first that the waiting area was full of grade nine kids. He just went right to the desk and waited impatiently for someone to acknowledge him standing there.

"'Scuse me?" he said, after a minute of being ignored. _Politely_. And Casey thought he had an attitude problem.

Nothing.

"Ex_cuse_ me," Derek said.

"Sit in your regular spot, Snowflake, and I'll call you when Mr. Lassiter is ready," the receptionist, Ms. Wilson, said, not even looking up from what she was doing.

Normally this would be Derek's cue to turn up the smarm and try to grease his way in, but that day, he was in no mood for this woman or the telephone pole that she didn't ever seem to want to remove from her ass.

"Ms. Wilson," he said.

"You heard me, Venturi, sit down and wait, like always," she said. "There's a few ahead of you."

"I'm not here for Mr. Lassiter," Derek said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Why don't you just move to the head of the line? Let me open that velvet rope just for you..."

"Okay, you know what?" Derek began.

Then, for some reason, he was being dragged out into the hall again.

"Oh God, what did he do?" Sam said, from a little ways down the hall.

"What do you mean 'what did he do?'" Derek asked, breaking free from Ralph _and_ Sheldon this time.

"Nothing," Sheldon said.

"Yet," Ralph said.

"Okay," Sam said.

Casey came running over, followed by Emily.

"What happened?" Casey asked, still breathing hard.

"Nothing," Derek said. "We're just gonna try this again." He started to head back into the office.

"Hang on," Sam said. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" Derek asked. What was there to plan?

"Yeah," Sam said. "Don't you think we should decide what it is we're doing before we actually do anything? Or were you just gonna go in there and yell?"

Derek really wanted to deny that he was planning on doing exactly that, but he knew Sam knew better.

"Thought so," Sam said.

"We were gonna see if we could get Lizzie and Edwin paged or something," Derek said. "But Ms. Wilson was being—"

"Herself?" Casey asked.

"Yep," Derek said.

"Called you 'Snowflake?'" Casey asked.

"Yeah," Derek said.

"Hate when she does that," Casey said.

"So what's plan B?" Sam asked, bringing everyone back to Earth.

"I think Lizzie has Algebra," Casey said. She dug into her bag and pulled out her organizer. She started flipping through it, completely oblivious to all the eyes on her. "Yep, Algebra. Room 25."

Then she noticed the looks. "_What_?" she asked.

Derek shook his head, but he couldn't stop the smile from forming.

"Okay," Sam said. "That helps, actually. What about Edwin?"

"Spanish," Casey said, checking. "Room 110."

"So what do we do," Emily asked. "Meet up with them?"

"I don't wanna wait that long," Casey said. "Think we can get a guidance counselor? Paul maybe?"

There was a reason that people thought Casey was the smart one. Derek was about to say as much when he was interrupted.

"Is there any _legitimate_ reason for this little powwow?" Ms. Wilson said, poking her head out the door. "Or are you just loitering?"

_Two months till graduation,_ Derek thought. _Two months till graduation. Keep repeating that and do not throw stuff. Throwing stuff is bad. And so is getting arrested._

"Ms. Wilson, heeey," Sam said, smiling at her and looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Derek wished he could pull off that look. "I actually really do need your help."

Sam began to follow her back into the main office. While her back was turned, he looked at everyone else and nodded his head toward the guidance offices. Then he disappeared through the double doors.

"You guys," Casey said. "Why don't you all try to get some lunch?"

"Nah," Sheldon said.

"No way," Emily said.

"We're good," Ralph said. Then his stomach rumbled a little.

Derek dug out his wallet. "Someone get me some cookies, and a Red Bull, aaaand..." He turned to Casey and raised an eyebrow.

"Couple cereal bars?" Casey said.

There were a couple of seconds where the three of them stood there doing nothing.

"Seriously," Derek said. "Go the hell to lunch. All of you. Bring us back something."

"And thanks," Casey said.

"What _she_ said," Derek said.

Casey and Derek tried Mrs. Weinstock's office first, but she wasn't in. Then they tried Paul.

Casey knocked on his door, giving it the wimpiest of taps, like she was afraid the door would eat her or something. Derek was about to reach over her and knock on the door for real when it opened.

"Casey and Derek," Paul said, poking his head out the door. "I'm in session right now..."

"May as well let them in," Derek heard from inside the room. It took Derek a second to recognize his little brother's voice. Not a good sign.


	9. Chapter 9

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Nine

Part One: Edwin.

A feeling of calm came over Edwin. It had to do with knowing exactly what was going to happen to him. He was going to die. They would probably be burying him by the end of the day. That meant that there was really nothing more to worry about. No fear of the unknown for Edwin.

Meanwhile Paul was trying to get him to explain himself. As if there was any point to that, or anything to explain for that matter. He was an idiot. End of story. Not too complicated. But Paul wouldn't listen to reason.

"Start from the beginning," Paul said. He'd seemed so much cooler this morning. He'd futzed with a little perpetual motion machine, the kind with the little balls that knocked against each other, making comforting clicking noises while they talked. He'd also been lingering over his coffee. But now, no coffee, no clicking, and no sense of humor, so Edwin stopped himself from using the two or three wiseass answers that jumped into his brain at Paul's prompt.

Even though he couldn't exactly be executed twice could he?

"Not much to tell," Edwin said after a beat. "Adam Gillis came up to me and asked if beating up Lizzie made me feel like a man. So I hit him. And before you ask,clocking_ him _didn't make me feel like a man either."

"Hmm," Paul said. "How _did_ it make you feel?"

_Is that just what this guy says when he can't think of anything else?_ Edwin thought. _I'll have to ask Casey later, if there's time. How did it make me feel? Seriously?I 'm thinking of crawling under a rock and dying before I have to face Lizzie, if you really wanna know. _

Paul waited. That was Edwin's cue to talk.

"I'm just sitting here, quietly, waiting to get expelled," Edwin said.

"Do you think you deserve to be expelled?" Paul said.

"I dunno," Edwin said. He worried the little clip on the ace bandage the nurse put on his hand before sending him in here.

"Up here, Ed," Paul said.

Edwin looked up.

"You still haven't told me how you feel about what happened," Paul said.

"What?" Edwin asked. "What kind of question is that? How do you think it made me feel? Asshole called me an abuser so I just had to go ahead and act like one, so yeah, I'm just great."

"Okay, well let's talk more—" Paul began, when there was a little taptaptap on the door. "Hold that thought."

He opened the door and said "Casey and Derek, I'm in session right now..."

"May as well let them in," Edwin said. _Why delay the inevitable? _Even as he thought that, he had the urge to hide his hand, then he wondered if he'd fit in the file cabinet.

"Ed, oh my God," Casey said, rushing past both Derek and Paul and zeroing in on Edwin. It was like she saw all and knew all.

"_Casey_," Paul said, all business. She turned around in surprise. He must not use that tone often. "When I say I'm in session, that means that you really need to wait outside. In a few minutes, I'll write you a pass for next periodif you guys want to come in _at the end of this session_, but that's all I got for you."

Casey nodded and about-faced probably too shocked to do anything else. Paul closed the door again.

"So where were we?" Paul asked. "Oh yeah, you said that you acted like an abuser. Do you think you're an abuser?"

"Obviously," Edwin said.

"Okay," Paul said. "I'm Denzel Washington."

Edwin raised an eyebrow.

Paul looked down at himself. "Nope, guess not. Looks like I'm still me. You get where I'm going with this don't you?"

"Yeah," Edwin said, looking at his hands again.

"Okay, so fill me in, then, 'cause it's been a long day, and I'm confused," Paul said.

"I hit that guy, but that doesn't make me an abuser," Edwin said. "Just makes me guilty of assault and battery I guess." Sometimes there were perks to being the child of a lawyer, but this wasn't one of those times.

"You're getting ahead of yourself a little here," Paul said. "I wouldn't exactly call you Public Enemy Number One."

"Then what would you call me?" Edwin asked.

"I'd call you Edwin," Paul said. "I ask the questions here. I want to know what you're thinking. It seems like you're waiting to be led to the gallows."

"Your point?"

"Well," Paul said. "I'm wondering why you seem to think your case is so much worse than the average fight that we see around here."

"Are you kidding?" Edwin asked.

"Nope," Paul said. "Not even a little. I want to know why you're so content to beat yourself up this much."

"Okay," Edwin said. _Here goes_. "I had one thing to do, and that was keep an eye out for Lizzie. That's all. Make sure she was okay, because some creep grabbed her and tried to rip her dress off and—well, you know what else—and she's afraid of her own shadow as much as she wants to pretend she's okay. One job I had, and I screwed it up so royally. I mean, she's never gonna trust me again. I'll be lucky if she _looks_ at me again."

"How many punches have you thrown in your lifetime, Edwin?" Paul asked.

"I don't know," Edwin said.

"Let me rephrase," Paul said. "How many have you thrown at _people_? And not in self-defense, either."

"One," Edwin said.

"So would it be fair to say that you don't often look to violence as a solution to your problems?"

"Just this once, I guess," Edwin said. "Isn't that enough?"

"I'm not saying that it was okay," Paul said. "I think you know that there are going to be consequences for this, but before we even get to that, I wanted to talk things over with you."

"And now you have, so can I go get expelled now?"

"Back to Lizzie, actually," Paul said. "From what you've been saying, it seems like you're most concerned of what she thinks of this?"

"That is what I said, isn't it?" Edwin asked.

"Yes," Paul said. "See, what I wanna know is if she strikes you as particularly judgmental."

"No," Edwin said. "So you're trying to tell me without actually telling me that I worry too much and everything will be okay and then we'll all have cookies and do a little dance."

"Am I saying anything else?" Paul asked. He was trying not to laugh, which really pissed Edwin off.

"I'm real glad you think this is funny," Edwin said.

"Just the part about the dancing," Paul said.

Edwin smiled. He didn't want to, but he was caught off guard.

Paul sat at his desk and waited, since it was still Edwin's turn to talk. Edwin toyed with the idea of just shutting up and seeing how long the man could hold out, but didn't, mainly because this mess was Edwin's own fault, not Paul's.

"Okay, so listen," Edwin said. "I really don't know what else to say. I'm sorry that I hit that guy, Adam, and I'm—I don't know—waiting for whatever I need to do next."

"In the short run, I'm gonna go back to Lizzie, and what happened to her over the weekend, and—I hate to break it to you—how _her_ attack made _you _feel," Paul said.

Edwin looked at him incredulously. "Again?"

"Actually, we hadn't gotten to that yet," Paul said. "Even this morning. You talked about how she was doing and what you and your family have been trying to do to cheer her up, and some of the things you hope to do later. I think there was a joke about a doctor in there somewhere, too. But nothing really about _you_."

"Shyeah, who knew I was a man of action, huh?" Edwin asked.

"Yeah, but maybe I don't subscribe to the actions speak louder than words theory, you know?" Paul said. "I am what you call a word nerd, so I'm kinda needing some words from you right now. Can't help it. I go through withdrawal if I don't get em. So—your feelings. Let's start slow. How do you feel right now?"

"Like I'm in the hotseat?" Edwin said.

"What else?"

"Tired?"

"Have you been getting enough sleep?" Paul asked. Edwin _knew_ that his parents told Paul about the whole not sleeping thing. There's no way they could have resisted.

"No," Edwin said. "But you knew that."

Paul didn't deny it. "What else?"

"I _was_ really pissed," Edwin said.

"Not anymore?"

"Yeah," Edwin said. "I guess I am, but—shit, I mean stuff—happens when I get mad." He felt like an idiot for phrasing it that way. It was waay too Incredible Hulk and if anyone else had said it, he wouldn't have been able to control the giggles.

"People wouldn't like you when you're angry?" Paul said.

"Bwahaha" Edwin laughed. It cut off quickly.

"So what else?" Paul asked.

_Gawd you're a pain in the ass_, Edwin thought. _Why didn't Casey warn me?_

"Scared," Edwin said. _Duh_, he thought.

"Okay," Paul said. "Of?"

"What am I _not_ scared of?" Edwin asked. But he had an idea of what Paul wanted, so, "So first I didn't know what happened to her and I freaked until I saw her. Then when I saw her I freaked some more and worried that she'd never let me touch her, though she _really_ won't let me near her now, because now I'm one of them, and I haven't even _begun_ to worry about what my Dad's gonna say about all this."

"That's a lot," Paul said. "Would you have told anyone unprompted? Or in my case, un-nagged?"

"Well, for God's sake," Edwin said. "I'm not supposed to be the one with the issues. Nothing happened to _me_. This is not about me. Or it shouldn't be. But I just keep freakin calling attention to myself and I don't really know why."

"So," Paul began. "You think this makes you, what, an attention junkie?"

"I don't want the attention," Edwin said. "It should be on her."

"Does she want it?"

"I guess she doesn't want it either, no," Edwin said.

The bell rang, and Paul looked at his watch. "On that note, looks like I have to write a couple of passes. So do you still think it's okay to let Casey and Derek in? You can say no, if you want to."

"Let em in," Edwin said. He looked down at his lap and tried to steel himself for the onslaught.

Part Two: Paul.

Paul took a deep breath and opened the door, fully expecting to two kids to come spilling in, probably with a drinking glass that they'd had pressed to the door. Where they would've gotten the glass would have been anyone's guess, but instead of a tangle of limbs, in came two more kids who looked ready to walk the Green Mile.

Casey made a bee-line for Edwin and wrapped herself around him like a paramecium trying to absorb him, chair and all. Paul would've said something, but it looked like the kid could use a good mauling.

While that was going on, Paul noticed Derek leaning against the desk, by himself, arms crossed. He might be cold, Paul thought. Though he himself was hot. The heating system always seemed to spaz in early spring and late fall, unable to find the right temperature. As it turned out, the kid was biding his time, waiting patiently (more or less) for Casey to be done so that he could do a little suffocating of his own.

When Casey pulled away, her eyes were streaming and there were some tell-tale wet patches on her shirt, but everyone pretended not to notice them. Edwin pinched at the bridge of his nose, and sniffed a little. Then Derek went in, hugged him quickly and pulled back, noticed Edwin's bandaged hand and said:

"So you decked someone?" Derek asked.

"De-_rek_!" Casey said.

"Yeah," Edwin said.

"Did he deserve it?"

"Oh for God's sake!" Casey said.

Edwin shrugged.

Then a lot of things started to happen all at once. Casey asked Paul what was going to happen next. Derek asked Edwin what had happened in the first place and whether he was okay. Edwin avoided eye contact and did his best to sink into the chair. Casey asked if anyone knew where Lizzie was. Edwin sank further into the chair.

"How 'bout we take one question at a time, guys," Paul said. The two of them kept talking and Paul spent a couple of minutes untangling the conversation before being interrupted by Natalie Wilson who came in with all her usual charm to (_ask who's been trip-trapping across her bridge_, Paul thought) summon Edwin to Frank Lassiter's office.

Things quieted down right quick as Edwin got up to follow her out.

"Oh my God," Casey said as the door shut behind them.

"F-f-f-f-_fudge_," Derek said. Paul really wouldn't have given him a hard time for saying "fuck" at a time like that, but he appreciated the effort just the same.

"Relax," Paul said.

"But what if he gets expelled?" Casey asked.

"Doubtful," Paul said. "You're thinking of the zero tolerance policy, but that's gone the way of the eight track."

"The what-now?" Derek asked. He might have been kidding.

"Never mind," Paul said. "It's dead, is my point. But while we're waiting to hear back from Edwin, why don't we talk about you guys."

Derek and Casey looked at each other. Derek made an 'after you' gesture. One doesn't usually have to tell Casey twice.

"Oh come on, you know me, Paul," Casey said. "I'm freaking. You know I'm freaking. Both Edwin and Lizzie keep bottling things up, like they wanna be the opposite of—"

"Us," Derek said.

"Yeah," Casey said. "But it's not good. I was afraid something bad was gonna happen."

Paul took a second to let that sink in. "What about you, Derek?"

"Um," Derek said. "What she said."

"Have I ever let you get away with an answer like that?" Paul asked.

He shot Paul a dirty look; Paul smiled back.

"Ralph just stopped me from beating the hell out of a locker," Derek said.

"Locker always wins," Paul said. "Could've broken your hand."

"Yep," Derek said. "But I didn't. And I wanna know what happened with Edwin. I knew that he didn't hit a locker or he wouldn't be dealing with Lassiter. I wanna know who he hit and why. He's never hit anyone in his life. I mean, it's _Edwin_. Usually, if he gets in a fight all he does is curl into a ball until the bully gets tired of kicking and leaves."

"I'm sure the story will be forthcoming," Paul said. "I've only heard his side so far, and you know I can't talk about it, so unfortunately you're gonna have to be patient for a bit." That wasn't entirely true. Paul had heard from Mike Gilmour, who'd seen most of the incident and had helped to break it up. But Paul was worried about accidentally breaking confidence by giving up too much information, so he kept his mouth shut.

Part Three: Lassiter.

At least once a week, Frank Lassiter thanked God that the board had done away with zero tolerance. Twice a week, he lamented the fact that he didn't go into accounting. Numbers were stable. They behaved in a logical fashion. They didn't need to be punished.

Now this kid in front of him, he'd been worried about, having been so well acquainted with his brother and stepsister, holy terrors, both. But, Edwin Venturi hadn't given him a lick of trouble before. There was a detention or two on his record, but those were for lateness, and his grades were exemplary. So of course it stood to reason that he'd have to deal with this kid for having almost broken the jaw of a kid half a foot taller and forty pounds heavier. Of _course_.

The staff had done a pretty good job of separating all the kids involved and questioning them individually, so they didn't get a chance to compare notes. That meant that Frank had a pretty good idea of what had really happened. That Gillis kid, a nogoodnik of the highest magnitude, had decided that he would bait the Venturi boy. Mike Gilmour had even told Lassiter that Gillis had advanced on Venturi in such a way that he thought that Venturi was the one in danger. Then the punch flew. Then it took two big kids to stop Venturi from doing more damage.

"I would say self-defense," Gilmour had told him.

"Except that Adam Gillis didn't lay a hand on him," Lassiter said. "And several people saw this." He hated to say it, but he couldn't prove self-defense. And "the-little-rat-had-it-coming" was not something that he could put in a report. There would be lawsuits.

As soon as Natalie Wilson took her broom and left, Lassiter sat the kid down and got a good look at him. Edwin Venturi didn't look like he could successfully beat up a flea on his way back from Wilderness Scouts, where he earned a merit badge by reading to old people and baking cookies. _This_ kid beat someone up?

"So, Mr. Venturi," Lassiter began. "Why don't you tell me your side of the story?"

"I hit him," Edwin said. "I guess that's about it."

"Not exactly," Lassiter said. "_Why_ did you hit him?"

"He said something, and I got mad, and it's not an excuse. I don't have an excuse," Edwin said.

"See, I was told that Mr. Gillis advanced on you in a threatening manner and intimated that you were the one who attacked Miss McDonald this past weekend?" Lassiter said. "Is that not what happened?"

"Yeah," Edwin said, looking up. "That's what happened."

_Now I can see how he could have beaten someone up_, Lassiter thought.

"So why didn't you say this?" Lassiter asked. "Don't you think it could help your case?"

"Could it?" Edwin asked.

"Sounds like an extenuating circumstance," Lassiter said. The boy looked surprised to say the least.

"However," Lassiter said. "That doesn't mean that I can let you off scot-free. I in no way condone violence in my school, and I am going to call your father to set up a meeting as soon as possible so that we can discuss this. This is your first offense, but I will have to suspend you for two days, give you two weeks detention when you come back, and when I talk to your father, we'll discuss the possibility of an anger management class, in addition to regular sessions with Mr. Greebey."

"That's it?"

"That's not enough?" Lassiter asked. The boy didn't believe him. He could see why, his reputation having preceded him. Edwin must have heard a lot from his brother Derek. Plus there had been that whole incident a couple of years back in which Lassiter had threatened to expel the elder Venturi for vandalism. It was a good thing that no one knew what an empty threat that had been. That there was no way the school board would have let him expel the kid. Even the father, who was a lawyer, if Lassiter wasn't mistaken, had been too shocked to realize it.

"Um," Edwin said. "I'd say it's fair." He looked like he wanted to bolt before Lassiter changed his mind. He was so reminded of the boy's older brother for a second. Boy would he be happy when _that_ one finally graduated. There would be cake and balloons, he was sure of it.

"Where's Lizzie?" Edwin asked.

"She's being well looked after," Lassiter said. "Mrs. Weinstock is with her, right now, I believe. You, however, will have to wait to speak to her, as you'll be headed back to Mr. Greebey's office until a parent can pick you up."

"Oh God," Edwin said.

"No, a parent will do," Lassiter said. He didn't get it. Kids usually didn't. He leaned over and hit the button on the intercom.

"Ms. Wilson?" he asked. "Can you please join us a moment?"

"I live to serve," she said.

When she arrived, Lassiter said, "Can you please escort Mr. Venturi back to Mr. Greebey's office, and possibly let Mrs. Kingston know that I'm ready to see Mr. Gillis?"

"Of. Course. _Sir_," she said. _You'd think I wanted her to scrub the floors with a toothbrush_, he thought. _What in the Helsinki would it take to get her to respond like a mammal?_

Part Four: Derek.

Edwin came back and Derek and Casey started talking at him right away. Edwin was used to this type of thing.

He pointed to Derek to answer the first question. "I'm suspended," he said. "Two days."

Derek had expected worse. Casey, he knew, was thinking _Permanent Record!_ But she managed to look calm, because it could have been so much worse.

"And detention, and counseling, and I don't remember what else but it won't matter 'cause Dad will kill me later. If Lizzie doesn't," Edwin said.

"Please," Derek said. "Dad would've killed me years ago if he had it in him."

"Yeah, that's true," Edwin said.

"Heh," Derek said, pulling Edwin in for a one-armed hug. He might have been expecting a noogie, but Derek's intentions were pure this time. Over Edwin's head, Casey shot him a look that said, "About time." But he couldn't help it. He just wasn't a hug initiator. It didn't come naturally. He stuck his tongue out at her and she made a kissy face.

Just then, Paul had to remind them that he was in the room, too.

"We just found out that Mrs. Weinstock has Lizzie," Casey said. "So she's okay."

Edwin nodded. "Mr. Lassiter said that too."

"So what exactly happened?" Derek asked. He felt bad for asking, but he really couldn't take it anymore. He had to know.

Edwin rolled his eyes and gave them what sounded like the Cliff Notes version. "Adam Gillis asked me if I hit Lizzie, so I hit him instead. I'm an idiot, and my ass is grass."

"Son of a _bitch_," Casey said. Everyone turned to look at her.

"Sorry?" she said.

"I won't tell if you don't," Paul said.

"_I'm_ telling," Derek said, trying to stop the inevitable tears. They were coming. He saw them. They were like a thermometer slowly, torturously rising to the top of her head and out of her eyes.

"Okay, so I _won't_ tell," he tried. No dice. Her hands were balled into fists.

"See, Ed?" Derek said. "She would've beat the crap outta the guy, too. And you know not to piss Casey off, right?"

"Derek," Edwin said, shaking his head.

"No?" Derek said.

"No," Edwin said.

"Okay," Derek said. "So what do you have to do now, wait for Dad?"

"Yeah," Edwin said.

"Want me to stay?" Derek asked.

"No," Casey said. "You have class. I have a free period next. _I'll_ stay."

"What's one more class," Derek said. "I've missed half the day."

"You're gonna graduate if it kills me," Casey said. Paul snorted.

"Very funny," Derek said.

"Go to class," Casey said.

"Both of you go to class, okay?" Edwin asked. "I might need you to help me talk to Lizzie later, though."

"Why?" Casey asked. Derek wondered, too.

"Just because," Edwin said.

"Okay," Derek said. "If you're sure." He put an arm around Casey and they both turned to leave until Paul cleared his throat.

"Where you going without these?" he asked when they turned back. He held up some passes, which they took and thanked him. Casey kissed Edwin on the head on the way out.

When they got into the hall, Derek turned to Casey and asked. "Do we really have to go to _class _now?"

"Don't make me drag you," Casey said.

_That's my girl_, he thought. They had another hour or so before they could go home, only she would make him go to class.

Part Five: Casey.

Technically, she could have gone home, having last period free, but she wanted to go home with Lizzie and Derek. That was why she spend forty minutes circling the aisles in the library and making the librarian nervous. It wasn't on purpose. The smell of the books calmed her and she was hoping that they'd give her what she needed to deal with the drama that would recommence when they all got home.

She hoped that George wouldn't be too mad. She knew he'd understand what happened, eventually, but he had that habit of going off half cocked and yelling, and Edwin didn't need to be yelled at. Then there was Lizzie. Casey didn't know what to expect from Lizzie. This was very much outside their collective realm of experience.

The bell rang (finally!) and she took off for Derek's economics class and met him at the door. Then they both went and got Lizzie.

Derek was amazing. He steered Lizzie to the car, quickly so that she didn't have to deal with anyone. He cranked the radio and sang along, trying to make Lizzie laugh, and he almost got her to until they actually got home. Then it took a couple of minutes for the three of them to drag themselves out of the car and find the courage to deal with another round of chaos.


	10. Chapter 10

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Ten

Part One: George.

Despite what his secretary seemed to think, it wasn't everyday that George got called down to the high school to pick up his son who had just been _suspended_. Sure, there'd been that expulsion thing with Derek a couple years back, but that had been a bluff. And okay, he'd talked Lassiter out of suspending Derek more than once, but truly, he could count the incidents on one hand, so that knowing smirk on Susan's face was completely unwarranted, and unnecessary.

George was not pissed yet. Much.

_Edwin, what in the hell did you do?_ He wondered. He'd gotten that goblin of a secretary on the phone. The woman really seemed to enjoy being the bearer of bad news, and he could hear the sadistic glee in her voice when she refused to tell him what the circumstances of Edwin's suspension were.

_That's unfair, George_, he told himself. _Don't be an asshole. _

When he walked into the building, he felt the familiar bit of fear from being Called to the Principal's Office, as if he were the one in trouble. _I could've sworn that I was supposed to get over that by the time I hit forty, dammit_, he thought.

He took a deep breath in front of the main office before he went in. He put on his Professional! Face and waited for Ms. Wilson to notice him.

"George Venturi," he said, when she turned to him. "I'm here to pick up my son."

_Not bad. Not bad_, he thought. _Now don't blow it. You are forty-three, not sixteen. Do not bite your lip. Do not tap on the desk._

"Yes," Ms. Wilson said. "We've been _expecting_ you. Right this way."

_What would Atticus Finch do?_ George asked himself.

"Thank you," he said, smiling in what he hoped was a charming I-don't-want-to-pour-water-on-you-and- see-if-you-melt sort of way. She led him to Lassiter's office where Edwin sat, avoiding all eye contact. Kid looked scared.

_Scared of what?_ George wondered. _The hammer's already fallen. What's left? A little grounding?_ Lassiter chased Edwin out of the office so that he could talk with George in private. Edwin didn't look like he wanted to go and George didn't want to be alone in the office with the principal either, but neither had much choice.

"Mr. Venturi," Lassiter began, after Edwin shut the door. "Sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," George said, realizing. "It has."

Derek hadn't been in trouble in months. It didn't seem possible.

Lassiter gave him the details of the incident, sounding for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere else.

"Edwin has been a good student," Lassiter said, finally. "I really didn't want to suspend him, but school policy is pretty clear on this sort of thing, so my hands are tied."

"I understand," George said.

"We'd been hoping to make a case for self-defense actually," Lassiter said. "You, of course, are familiar with the appeals process in case you wanted to do so?"

"I am," George said. By the time he got this before the school board, Edwin would have served the suspension anyway, so he didn't see the point.

"One thing I _can_ do is make sure that this doesn't make it into his permanent record," Lassiter said. "That is, if he manages to stay out of trouble for the rest of the year."

_Kid's a Venturi_, George thought. _Good luck with that_.

"Thank you," George said.

"I also spoke to Edwin about the need for further interventions," Lassiter said. "He will be in mandatory counseling with Mr. Greebey, and I was wondering..."

"I've made an appointment with an outside counselor as well," George said. "For Ed, and for Lizzie."

"Not that I think that this was anything more than an isolated incident," Lassiter said.

"I agree," George said. "But I also agree that counseling is a necessity."

"They've been through a trauma," Lassiter agreed. "Whatever I can do to be of assistance..."

_This guy's not so bad_, George thought._ But I don't need to tell Derek that. _

"I appreciate that," George said, getting up and shaking the principal's hand. "I'll just take him home, I suppose."

"Well, Mr. Venturi," Lassiter said. "I hope that the next time we see each other is at graduation."

"And not a minute before," George said, cracking a smile. "Fingers crossed."

After he left the office, he turned to Edwin and said. "Okay, you. Let's go."

Edwin got up and followed George out, the whole time looking afraid of being hit. As if George had _ever _hit him. The kid really did worry too much.

"Did you have lunch?" George asked, once they'd gotten into the car.

Edwin shook his head.

"Okay," George said. He headed straight for the nearest drive thru and got some burgers, fries and a couple of milkshakes. Edwin tried his best not to be hungry, but his growling stomach gave him away. He parked outside the house. It was no fun eating drive thru outside the car. Unless there were picnic tables nearby.

"_Mangia_," George said, more or less exhausting his Italian. Edwin slowly started to pick at his fries. It wouldn't be long until he abandoned all pretense and murdered his cheeseburger. But before he did, George tried to make things easier.

"So listen, Ed," George said. "What you did today wasn't acceptable by any means."

Edwin put down a fry that had been halfway to his mouth. "I know," he said. "I'm really sorry."

"I know you are," George said. "I wanna say that it was unacceptable, and I should be giving you a lecture right now about violence never being the answer, but you knew that already."

"Uh-huh," Edwin said. It occurred to George that he really needed to cut the preamble and get to the point, because the kid's face was breaking his heart. "How much trouble am I in?"

"I think you've had enough punishment for now," George said. "Except maybe that you'll now have a couple of days to clean the garage, but that's only because the garage is a pit and we need _someone _to do it—"

Edwin wasn't laughing.

"Or maybe that can wait for the next time Derek and Casey break curfew," George said. "Listen, you did something wrong, but nobody's perfect. You lost control; everyone does that once in a while. You can't beat yourself up forever, though I know you well enough to know that you'll try. Really, the fact that you feel this guilty right now is a good sign. It's something that you'll hopefully remember the next time you're in a situation like this."

"Will you please just yell at me?" Edwin asked. His voice cracked worse than it had in about a year, but George had been expecting it. He knew what was coming. Frankly, he was surprised that Edwin had held out this long. He reached for Edwin, but his seatbelt got in the way. George did that all the time. He'd been known to try to climb out of the car with his seatbelt on. But finally, he undid the thing and grabbed his son, holding him while he had some well deserved hysterics.

George has never seen this out of Edwin. Part of him wondered exactly how long it had been building. _The whole three days? Probably_, he thought.

After a few minutes, he picked up his mostly melted milkshake and took a good-sized swig of it, completely oblivious to the way that George was watching him.

"What?" Edwin croaked.

_Okay, not completely oblivious_, George thought.

"Nothing," George said, mouth full. "Eat."

He looked at the burger like it was radioactive.

"Okay," George said. "We'll hold on to that for later. I'd hide it from Derek if you want it, though."

Edwin shrugged, took another gulp, and belched impressively.

"Yeah, I'd give that a nine, easily," George said. Still very little in the way of humor to be found in his middle child. "How 'bout we go inside, now?"

"'kay," Edwin said.

Part Two: Lizzie.

Derek, Lizzie, and Casey paused in front of the door. Actually Lizzie paused a little and Derek and Casey banged into her. Then there was a whole bunch of "Are you okay?" and "Did I hurt you?" in two-part harmony.

"Guys!" Lizzie said, finally. "Take a pill or something, okay?"

They shut up, and Derek moved past her and opened the door, holding it for her and Casey.

From the way Edwin was sprawled on the couch, his face partially hidden by his arm, Lizzie thought he was asleep, so she tiptoed by him on the way to the kitchen. Derek and Casey went by without incident, but as she passed, he looked up at her, and she froze, mid-scamper.

"Hey," Lizzie said, grinning at him. "Sup?"

He sat up, and she got the nervous chatters.

"I thought you were asleep, and I didn't wanna wake you up. _Did_ you sleep? You look a little better." She was lying like a rug, here. He looked way worse, his eyes puffy and glassy. But she pretended not to notice any of this as she came around the couch to sit down next to him.

"Anything on?" she asked.

"I dunno," Edwin said.

"George come down hard on you?" Lizzie asked.

"No," Edwin said. It was a stupid question. He was sitting there in front of the TV, after all.

"Okay," Lizzie said. "Good."

"So you know what happened," Edwin said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "Of course I do."

"Do you hate me?" Edwin asked.

_Of all the freakin stupid questions in this world,_ Lizzie thought. But she knew him. She knew that he blurted that out because he couldn't stand the thought bouncing around his head for another second without saying something. It didn't matter whether the thought was logical. In another situation, she might look him straight in the eye and deadpan, "Yes, Edwin. You're dead to me." But this was not a day for sarcasm.

"Ed-_win_," she said. "You know I don't hate you. I'm not even mad at you anymore. I was for a minute, but I'm over it."

"You should be mad," Edwin said.

"Please," Lizzie said. "Like _I'm_ gonna throw stones."

"You defended yourself," Edwin said. "I just hit someone who pissed me off."

"Are you forgetting that I shoved Derek into the wall?" Lizzie asked.

"That wasn't the same thing, either," Edwin said.

"Really?" Lizzie asked. "How's it different? And anyway Rod said that Adam got right up in your face like he might beat you up," Lizzie said.

"But he didn't beat me up," Edwin said. "He shot his mouth off. There's a difference."

"But how'd you know he wasn't going to hit you?" Lizzie asked.

"I didn't exactly analyze the situation," Edwin said. "I just punched."

"Happens," Lizzie said.

"Nuh-uh," Edwin said. "Not good enough."

"Oh, for the love of God," Derek said, coming in from the kitchen where he'd so obviously been eavesdropping. "Should we go cut you a switch from the yard or do you wanna do it yourself?"

"Oh, God, Derek," Lizzie said.

"Nah," Derek said. "You're so hell bent on self—self—beating yourself up, what the hell's the word?"

"Flagellation," George and Casey said, at almost the same time, from the kitchen.

"Really?" Derek said. "That's the one I was thinking of, but it sounded kinda dirty in my head. Anyway, you wanna keep doing that, you just say so."

"Stop making fun of me," Edwin said.

"No, I wouldn't do that," Derek said. "You might hit me."

"Aw, Derek," George said, getting up from the kitchen table.

"Stop it," Edwin said.

"Nobody died and made you Dr. Phil," Lizzie said, under her breath.

"Wait," Derek said. "You mean you're _not_ gonna beat the crap out of me? Even though I'm really pissing you off? 'Cause God knows I have a talent for that."

It was obvious where he was going with that. Even Edwin knew what he was saying.

"Derek, shut up," Edwin said, rolling his eyes. "Or learn some subtlety."

"Boy, I should wash your mouth out," Derek said. "Learn some..._subtlety_. Ew?"

Everybody stared at him.

"So, if I'm so obvious," Derek said. "That means you get what I'm telling you, right Ed?"

"Yeah."

"Good then can you explain it to me, 'cause I just confused myself," Derek said.

"I made a mistake," Edwin began. "That doesn't make me some kind of monster. I'm not a Neanderthal either. I should stop beating myself up. I'm not usually a violent guy and I worry too much." He ticked each thing off on his fingers. "Did I leave anything out?"

"Wow," Derek said. "I said all_ that_?"

Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Oh and you left out the part about your really handsome genius brother who came up with such brilliance," Derek said.

"_Paul_ said all that before," Edwin said.

"Darn Paul," Derek said. "Stealing my ideas."

"You wish," Edwin said.

"So," Derek chirped, flopping into the little space between Edwin and Lizzie on the couch, forcing the two of them to move back or be sat on. "What's on TV?"

Lizzie, knowing what was expected of her, gave Derek a dirty look. She peeked over Derek to see Edwin doing the same.

"No TV for me?" Derek said. "Get lost, Derek?"

Neither Lizzie nor Edwin said anything, but both kept up the dirty look until Derek got up.

"Nobody loves me," Derek said. "At least until Smarti gets home." He pretended to be highly offended as he stomped up the stairs.

"Bout time," Lizzie said. She caught Edwin's eye. He looked both exasperated and maybe the teeniest bit amused in spite of himself.

"What do you think was the thing that got rid of him, so we can do it again next time?" Lizzie asked.

"If I knew I'd be writing it down," Edwin said.

Lizzie next move was one she was a little afraid to make, but she knew that she had to try it. It was something that she usually did without thinking about it, but she didn't know how he'd react right then. She leaned over onto Edwin's shoulder. He moved his arm to put it around her and snuggled her against his chest.

"I love you," Edwin said into her hair.

"Love you more," Lizzie said.

"I'm sorry I keep making things worse," Edwin said.

"You're not," Lizzie said, looking up at him. "Don't look at it like that. And I thought that apologizing too much was _my _thing."

"Thought maybe you'd let me borrow it for a while," Edwin said.

Lizzie took the remote and then took his newly freed hand. "Whoo," she said. "Bite your nails much?"

"I still have all my fingers," he said.

"Not if you keep this up," she said. "Jeez."

"How are you so calm?" Edwin said.

"I dunno," Lizzie said. "It's my turn to be calm. It'll be your turn later when I freak out again. Imagine if we both flipped at the same time?"

"Not pretty," Edwin said.

"But it might be fun to watch Derek and Casey run for cover," Lizzie said.

Part Three: Casey.

She made her way to Derek's room and hopped over the pile of laundry he might have been sorting at some point. Her foot came down on a boot which threw off her balance. She finally came to rest on his bed. He sat at his desk and pretended for a second that he hadn't seen the wipeout, but she could see him smiling.

"Not funny," she said.

"Hysterical," he said. "So how are they doing?"

"They're okay," she said. "Vegging in front of the TV. What are you up to? You're not doing homework are you?"

"Perish the thought," he said. But, before she got to peek, he closed a document he was working on that might have been the essay that was due for English and opened up something that showed pictures of cats with ungrammatical captions.

"Aw," Derek said. "This one's trying to drive."

Casey rolled her eyes and her glance settled on some paper that was sticking out of a drawer nearby.

"What's this?" she asked, pulling it out. He got it away from her quickly and they tussled over it, because if he snatched it away that fast, it had to be something interesting.

"Give it up!" Casey said.

"Not happening," Derek said.

"You have to get tired sometime," Casey said.

"Not before you do," Derek said.

"You keep telling yourself that," Casey said. They both came crashing down onto the bed and both had a moment where they couldn't breathe because they were sure they'd finally broken the bed. But it held and they resumed wrestling.

The wrestling lead naturally enough to kissing and, though she figured she'd regret it later, she reached for the paper in his pocket while his defenses were down. Then she wriggled away before he could snatch it back.

"De-rek!" she said, after she'd skimmed it. She hit his arm. Then she hit him again.

"Um...ow?" Derek said. "Are you done beating me yet?"

"For now," Casey said. "You got into Ryerson? Why didn't you say anything? I almost took out an ad in the paper when I got my letter. Hello!"

"I dunno," Derek said.

It hadn't occurred to Casey to ask about Derek's college acceptances yet, because she'd gotten early admission to everywhere and hadn't realized that acceptances were coming. "Did you get in anywhere else?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," Derek said. He left it at that.

"Well?"

"U of T, Western, Carleton," he said.

She hit him again. Then she kissed him. "Dumbass!" she said. "We have to have some...cake or something!"

"We can't do this right now," Derek said. "This is, like, the worst time ever."

"This is the best time ever," Casey said. "Why aren't you happy?"

"I was," he said. "On Friday. I was going to surprise you, but then..."

"Yeah," Casey said.

"And Ryerson came today. Dad left it on my desk," Derek said.

"He didn't peek?" Casey asked. "He must be dying right now."

"Nah," Derek said. "He could probably tell. It was a little thick."

"This, well, this...is baloney is what it is," Casey said. "We are _going_ to tell everyone."

"You said baloney," Derek said, grinning as he allowed himself to be pulled downstairs.


	11. Chapter 11

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own anything connected to LWD or anything else I reference herein. No infringement of any kind is intended.

Chapter Eleven

Part One: Lizzie.

She had some more nightmares. Two of them recurred. The first one was just a run-of-the-mill flashback where she fought back against the creep as he ripped her top and jacket and broke one bra strap, and he just kept coming like Michael Myers. She saw his face and his stupid, dull eyes as he continued to grope her. He'd seemed a little older than Derek and he had spiky hair. He wore too much cologne. Tommy Hillfiger. He was the type of kid Derek would have called a tool. Kind of like Max, actually. But not Max.

Max himself had been really nice to her at school that day, asking after her between classes.

But her attacker had been the same kind of suburban, clean-cut, fake hip-hop rich kid. His voice after she'd fought him off, when the ambulance had taken him away, kind of sounded like a little boy's voice, all stuffed up from the broken nose she'd given him. He sounded younger than Edwin. He'd seemed so much bigger and older before that. And he was a good six inches taller and had maybe fifty pounds on her, but still a kid like her. Suddenly she thought that if he _was_ Derek's age, she'd really be surprised.

Which is what led to the second dream. The one where she was on trial for assault and he was testifying against her looking like he'd just come from choir practice or reading to the blind. The one where the prosecutor reminded everyone of her purple belt in taekwondo and showing one of their own home videos where she broke a board with her foot. There was the sound of the kid crying on the stand. Crying the same way he had after she'd kicked him and then there was the sound of the gates slamming shut in her prison cell where the cast of _OZ_ closed in on her.

It could happen. She knew that she wasn't about to get put in with creepy grown men, but she knew that Juvie wouldn't be much fun, either.

And if she didn't go to jail, then the kid would just sue and bankrupt the family. After they were done cleaning Mom and George out, they'd go for her Dad in New York. Then nobody could go to college and they'd lose the house and then they'd have to live in a one or two room apartment with rats and peeling paint and it would be her fault.

Her lamp went on. She raised her face from the pillow where she'd been trying not to make too much noise.

"Hey," Casey said. She sat down on the bed. Lizzie babbled about being sorry for waking her up and that she should go back to sleep. She stopped short of saying that Casey should enjoy her last days in her own comfy bed before they had to move to the hovel and they'd have to fight for space on the good milkcrate.

"Do you want Mom?" Casey said.

"No," Lizzie said. "I'm okay. Go back to bed."

"Do you wanna come with me?" Casey asked. "I have a bigger bed."

"I snore, remember?" Lizzie said.

"I've lived with it before," Casey said, her mouth turning up at the corners. "I'll live with it again."

"You're not...C-Casey," Lizzie joked.

"Come on," Casey said, putting her arms around her and letting her cry. Suddenly she seemed so Mom-like that Lizzie felt like crying harder, like Casey had somehow gotten the power to kiss it better and now all would be well. If anything else had woken Casey up, she would have complained for weeks about disrupting her sleep schedule, but when something was really wrong, she could always be counted on.

"Do you want some milk or something?" Casey asked.

"No," Lizzie said.

"Okay," Casey said. "Well let's go."

_Thank God Edwin's room is upstairs_, Lizzie thought. He was a lighter sleeper than Casey. And since he hadn't been sleeping well it was worse.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," Lizzie said.

"You didn't," Casey said. "I was just on my way back from the bathroom. Now come on. I hear my bed calling."

They both climbed into Casey's bed. Casey went directly to sleep, her breath whistling through her nose. Lizzie, afraid to move and wake her up again, stared at the ceiling thinking that she would stay like that all night. Somehow, she managed to drift off, though, because Casey's alarm woke her up.

"Go back to sleep," Casey said. "I'll wake you up when I get out of the shower."

Casey tried to get Lizzie to talk about the nightmares, but she wouldn't do it. She could picture Casey being comforting and telling her that _of course_ she wouldn't get arrested, or sued, but she could also picture Casey running to George in a panic asking if it could happen. And Lizzie could just see George telling Casey that _of course _it couldn't happen, but not looking her in the eye while he did so.

And Lizzie'd been so sure that she'd be okay the night before. Casey had dragged Derek downstairs and announced that he'd gotten into Lizzie didn't know how many colleges.

The night before.

"Guess who has a whole bunch of college letters hidden in his drawer like they were _Playboys_!" Casey sing-songed.

"Jeez, woman," Derek said. "Way to steal my thunder."

"We'd all die waiting for _you_ to break the news," Casey said.

"We don't all have to jump the gun, Gunny vonJumperman," Derek said. He'd been about to say something else when Mom hugged him and all he could get out was "oof."

"We have to celebrate," George said. "The day I thought would never arrive is here."

"Very funny," Derek said.

"I thought so," George said.

"And don't act like you didn't know about at least one of em," Derek said.

"I didn't open it, did I?" George said. "I mean, I saw a big thick envelope, but..."

Then it was his turn to hug Derek. "So that's two down, three to go," George said. "Where are we going for dinner on Friday? You pick, college kids."

"Sushi!" Casey said.

"Mexican!" Derek said.

"Sushi!"

"Mexican!"

Then there was tickling and slapfighting and Lizzie and Edwin got disgusted and left them to it. An hour or so later, as Lizzie had been getting ready for bed, she heard the two of them kissing in the hall.

"Love you," Casey said.

"Love you more," Derek said.

_Gag me_, Lizzie thought, smiling.

"Sushi," Casey said.

"Dream on," Derek said. "Mexican."

So right before Lizzie had fallen asleep, she'd been thinking about veggie roll and chicken mole, but it hadn't stopped her from having those dreams.

The next morning, when Lizzie got a look at herself in the mirror, she almost let Casey put makeup on her. Almost. In the end, she just used some of Casey's eye gel, which as far as Lizzie could tell, did little besides smelling like cucumbers. At least the bruises didn't look as bad.

Lizzie went to school and managed to look like she was paying attention. Brooke had her back in some classes and Jamie kept an eye on her in others. She was excused from gym even though it might have been fun to do a little running around if not a little batting practice. People were being too overprotective. Like she'd never gotten bruised up before. It used to happen once a month in taekwondo. When she took taekwondo.

_Gonna have to come up with something else to do,_ Lizzie thought. _Running could be good,_ she thought, even though Edwin was faster than she was. All those years of running away from Derek. Maybe she could get him to do it, too.

Nah, she thought. She imagined dragging Edwin out of his warm bed on weekends to run with her. Even those old too-tight sweatpants she had wouldn't be enough of an incentive to get him moving when the weather got cold enough. But she'd come up with something to do; she always did.

She paced the library for the umpteenth time. Her gym class was playing basketball today. She hadn't made the team, but she still had more hand-eye coordination than half her class and it was hard to get the ball away from her. When she wasn't two floors away from it, anyway.

She opened her phone to check the time and noticed that there was a text waiting for her from Edwin. From about fifteen minutes before.

_How bored are you?_ It read.

She looked around guiltily for the librarian. When the older woman wasn't looking she texted, _Falling asleep. You?_

George had taken Edwin into work with him so Edwin could either be as bored as she was now, or George could be running him ragged.

He got back to her right away. _Bertha loves me,_ he sent. Bertha was the document-eating copy machine at George's office. Edwin knew her well. _Same with Joann_.

_Who's Joann!?!_ she texted.

_Dad's computer_, he sent back. _Needed a defrag. Dad said 'What's a defrag?'_

That sounded like George. Lizzie could picture Edwin walking around fixing stuff. Then again, Marti knew more about computer stuff than George did. He just wasn't interested in that type of thing. Ask George about the law, history, sports, or eighties music, he was an expert, but he typed with two fingers and was lucky that he knew how to send an email.

_Bell's going to ring_, Lizzie sent. _Be good. Love you. _

Part Two: Edwin.

It looked at first like Edwin's Dad was going to do the tough love thing after all. He dragged Edwin out of bed even before _Casey_ was up and dragged him to his office.

Susan, Dad's secretary, knew exactly what had happened the day before, but didn't make a big deal out of it, just pointed him toward Bertha.

"Just look at you," she said from the doorway. "I remember when Bertha was bigger than you and you used to have to stand on a stool to fix her." Edwin himself had only just noticed that he didn't have to stretch to reach things in the copy room.

"When was that," Edwin said. "Last week?"

"Feels like it," she said. "Stop making me feel old, boy." She was maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight. He had the biggest crush on her when he was little, as had Derek, but then she had to go and get married a couple of years back. Broke their hearts.

She reached past him and opened a cabinet, pulling out a handful of rubber bands, putting some in her pocket and a thicker one on her wrist. Then she gathered her dreadlocked hair back and used the rubber band to put it into a ponytail. Something about that gesture made him think of Lizzie. Susan was very tall and dark-skinned, of Jamaican descent, but still managed to remind him of his tiny, blue-eyed, freckled white porcelain doll of a girlfriend. He wondered how Lizzie was doing, but didn't get a chance to talk to her until after he spent an hour or so defragmenting his Dad's computer and enlisting Susan to help him explain what defragmenting was and why he needed to do it regularly. Then, he showed his Dad how to set a picture of Nora as a wallpaper.

He texted Lizzie before lunch, but he guessed her ringer was off because he was mostly done with his humongous deli sandwich when she texted him back.

"She better not be in class," Dad said when he caught Edwin with his phone.

"She has gym," Edwin said. "So she'd be in study hall."

"And bored to death," Dad said. "I get it. I'd tell you to say hi for me but I officially don't know about this."

He stole Edwin's pickle.

"You're being punished," he said. "No pickle for you."

Edwin got even by swiping a couple of his Dad's fries. He was actually pretty grateful that his Dad brought him there. It beat the hell out of sitting at home alone with his imagination. Dad was keeping him busy. He just hoped that Lizzie wasn't stressing too much. She wouldn't admit it over the phone if she was, so he had to wait to get home and get a good look at her to know for sure.

Shortly after lunch, Dad had to leave to go to a meeting. He looked stressed about it, so Edwin didn't protest when he was told to stay put at the office and do whatever Susan told him to do. She made him organize the supply room. It was mindless enough to keep him happy until his Dad came back in a bad mood.

"What?" Edwin asked.

"Nothing," Dad said. "Did you do your homework yet?"

"Some of it," Edwin said. "I'm still waiting on the email from Bio." Not that he couldn't do most of the work standing on his head.

"No reading to do?"

"No," Edwin said. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Dad said. "Nothing that you need to be concerned about, anyway."

Edwin continued to stare at him. "We'll talk about it later," Dad said, finally.

That really didn't sound good.

Part Three: George.

George and Nora needed to pull Lizzie aside before dinner. The original plan had been to wait until after she ate, but it was just too obvious that something was up. Edwin had seen it as soon as George had gotten back from the meeting with the DA.

_Really,_ he thought. _Why do I have to have bright kids? Why couldn't I have gotten a couple of apathetic brats like my friends complain about?_

"We'll talk about it later," he'd told Edwin. Edwin gave him the x-ray eyes, but nodded and shut up about it. George went back to his desk and started to rearrange papers and stuff. Edwin sat opposite him and pulled out a paperback. They stayed like that for about two minutes, neither of them saying a word.

"Okay," George said, when he just couldn't stand it anymore. "Wanna know what that meeting was about?"

Edwin dropped the paperback and sat up straight.

"I was talking with the DA and she tells me that Lizzie probably has to come to court and testify," George said.

"Shit," Edwin said. "Sorry."

"Nope," George said. "That's what I said, and the DA agreed. We can get her testimony on video so that she doesn't have to face the guy who attacked her, but I was hoping not to make her deal with this at all."

For probably the first time in his life, Edwin didn't look like he had anything to say. Normally, George would want to record that for posterity, but not this time.

"They're still trying to get him to accept a deal, but it doesn't seem too likely," George said. "The arraignment is scheduled for tomorrow, and if he pleads not guilty, then..."

"Does she have to be there for that?"

"No," George said. "But this is very likely going to trial and we all need to be prepared for that."

"How long before it goes to trial?" Edwin asked.

"Don't know," George said. "Could be a while. But like I said, they can tape her deposition and get it out of the way. She's fourteen. The court can take some measures to protect her."

"This is gonna suck."

"Yeah."

"She can do it," Edwin said.

"Yeah."

"I really don't want her to."

"Me neither," George said.

"But she'll be okay," Edwin said.

"Yeah," George said. The key to instilling confidence was to project confidence. It was bullshit, but it was for a good cause.

George kept that in mind when the time came for him and Nora to tell Lizzie. They tried to put a spin on it, make it seem less like bad news, but they expected a certain amount of freaking out.

Even so, what they got was the last thing they expected.

"So, Liz," George began. "I had a meeting with the district attorney today..."

"Oh God," Lizzie said. Nora put a hand on her arm, tried to rub it, but Lizzie pulled away, started babbling in an almost Casey-esque manner. It took a few seconds for George's brain to catch up, but he could have sworn that the girl had said something about turning herself in.

"Did you just say—"

"Turning yourself in for what, honey?" Nora said. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Tell that to the jury," Lizzie said.

"Nobody is leveling any charges against you," George said. "At all."

"What if they sue?" Lizzie asked.

"They don't have a case," George said. "You were defending yourself. We have a statement from two witnesses from the Chinese place who heard you screaming." This wasn't anything Lizzie didn't already know, but she needed to hear it again. George guessed that she probably knew how irrational her worries were, but he also knew that that didn't make them any less powerful. He looked over at her and wondered if she believed him. He had no idea.

"What do I have to do?" she asked.

"You just have to show up and testify when the time comes," George said. He explained about a few of the particulars, putting emphasis on the fact that she didn't have to face the attacker in court because of her age, thinking that that was one of the things she was still most worried about.

"When?" she asked.

"That we won't know for a little while," he said.

"How long?"

"We have no way of knowing that, yet," he said. A look crossed the girl's face, one that he'd missed the past few days. The look said that she wanted to kick something. He took it as a good sign. Things might just be easier for her if she got angry.

"Right now," George continued. "We don't even know if it's going to trial. We have to wait for the plea. If he pleads not guilty, then there'll be a trial."

"There's still a chance that he might plead guilty," Nora said.

Lizzie gave her a look that said "Yeah, and your check's in the mail and Derek's room is clean."

"It is a possibility," George said, trying to help. "We can't count that out yet."

"We can't?" Lizzie asked, still not really believing him.

"Either way," George said. "We'll be okay. Got it?"

_No, she ain't got it_, George thought, even though she nodded. He knew he wouldn't mind having to repeat it.

Later on, after watching Lizzie pick at her food, Nora ran across her gi on the armoire in their bedroom.

She held part of it up.

"How long do you think I should wait before I bring this up again?" Nora asked.

"I dunno," George said. "I don't think it'll be too long, actually."

"Me neither," Nora said. "She's building up some major nervous energy."

"Think _I'm_ too old to sign up for Taekwondo?" George joked.

"Um, yeah," Nora said. "But I can think of a better way of working off your energy."

"Ooh," George said. "Really?"

"Yeah," Nora said. "The garage really needs a cleaning."

George groaned.

"I'm kidding," Nora said.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Closet Monsters

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own anything connected to LWD or anything else I reference herein. No infringement of any kind is intended.

Chapter Twelve

Part One: Nora.

On Wednesday, Nora took Edwin to work with her because she knew that Ed and George would drive each other crazy (er) on a day like this. Everybody knew that Lizzie's attacker was being indicted and that a plea was still possible, but unlikely.

Edwin would still be antsy as hell, but Nora knew how to keep him busy. She had swatches that needed organizing and a contact list that needed updating. Invoices that needed alphabetizing. If she had to mix up her files to get him to reorganize them, she was happy to do so. The kid needed mindless activity and he needed it now.

Everyone in the office made a fuss over him, of course, cooing the way they did over that website that showed all the kittens. This ensured that he got sick of the attention (Nora never thought she'd see the day) and hid in the office Nora shared with Bernice, who was deep in concentration and barely looked up from her sketches to acknowledge his presence. Nora figured he would hang out in there until the silence got to him then he'd enter the cheek pinching fray again.

Nora had a meeting and two consultations back to back so she didn't get to check on him until nearly lunchtime. She pictured the poor thing going stir crazy and imagined that he'd be pacing the hall by the time she got there, but Alicia, the receptionist hadn't heard peep one from the office and the door hadn't opened.

Extended quiet was not something one expected from Edwin Venturi. Nora was sure he'd fallen asleep, head on desk, drool mark on her mouse pad, but when she opened the door, she found Bernice and Edwin deep in discussion as she showed him some of her imaging software, letting him play with it a little. Bernice and Nora were tight now, but it was five months before she'd had spoken full sentences to _Nora_, but it took _Edwin_ maybe an hour to make a freakin lifelong bond. It had to be a Venturi thing.

"Ahem," Nora said. By this time, she'd been standing in the doorway for three minutes without them noticing her.

"We're doing educational stuff," Bernice said, pushing her glasses up on her head. Nora looked at Bernice's screen to see the beginnings of a dragon taking shape.

"European history?" Nora guessed.

"How'd you know?" Edwin asked.

"Lucky guess," Nora said. "Just wonder if I can interrupt this intensive study to get your input on lunch."

"What," Bernice said. "No salad?"

"You don't wanna know what happened the last time we tried to get this one to eat salad," Nora said, putting a hand on Edwin's shoulder.

"Convulsions?" Bernice guessed.

"Protests that he was not now, nor has he ever been a rabbit, and as such he needed some salami," Nora said.

"Sounds like my ex," Bernice said.

"Okay, so the two of you have clearly forgotten that I'm still in the room. I would be very insulted right now if you hadn't mentioned salami," Edwin said.

"Deli it is," Nora said. She resisted the urge to mess up his hair. It seemed like the men in her life had definite hair needs. George and Derek hated cutting theirs and Derek used more product than the girls did. Edwin, in an ongoing attempt to be the anti-Derek, kept his short and neat. Touching it would not be looked upon favorably.

"Write down what you want and I'll make the call," Nora said.

That morning had gone so smoothly that Edwin seemed shocked to see what time it was. Nora worried that knowing that the arraignment was going on that very moment would do nothing to help their appetites. Nora rubbed his shoulder so much that she worried about wearing a hole in his shirt. But all it took to momentarily snap Edwin out of his funk was the sight of the delivery guy carrying the smiley-face bag.

Then, while they were eating in the break room, the only real noise the occasional crunch of a pickle or the rattle of a potato chip bag—the two of them were that hungry—when Nora's phone buzzed in her pocket.

Part Two: Lizzie.

Lizzie'd promised to try to concentrate on her classes and to try to relax, but she had another day in which she could do little but watch the minute hand on the clock hop backward and then forward the way it did in every classroom.

She saw Mrs. Weinstock again, but didn't have much to say, besides how sick she was of sitting still, how much she just wanted to run around.

"Well," Mrs. Weinstock said. "What did your doctor say?"

"What," Lizzie said. "On Friday? She said to rest a couple of days, but that I was mostly okay. And to come back if anything felt worse."

"Okay, well, maybe we can talk it out with your gym teacher, who do you have again?"

"Ms. Jackson."

"Ms. Jackson," Mrs. Weinstock said. "And talk to your parents and see what they say, and maybe you can start gym again. Have you given any thought to going back to taekwondo?"

"Yes," Lizzie said, teeth clenched.

"And?"

"No taekwondo," Lizzie said.

"I'm going to ask you a stupid question," Mrs. Weinstock said. "What else is new, I know, but why do you say no taekwondo?"

"Just no."

"Do you really think I'm letting you get away with 'just no?'" Mrs. Weinstock asked.

"It won't feel good," Lizzie said.

"How'd it make you feel before?" Mrs. Weinstock asked. "Besides 'good.'"

"I felt strong, coordinated, in control," Lizzie said.

"And now?"

"It's ruined," Lizzie said.

"Because."

"Because, every time I throw a punch or kick, I'm gonna think of that creep and I might kick someone too hard and okay I dodged one bullet, but the next one will be my fault, no one can argue that," Lizzie said. There was a moment of silence that made Lizzie wonder if what she'd said made any sense.

"Dodged what bullet?"

"I mean, I thought I was getting arrested for beating up the guy who attacked me," Lizzie said. "I know, it was self defense, but still, it felt bad."

"Uh-huh."

"And everyone kept saying they were glad I hurt him, and that makes me sick," Lizzie said.

"Did you tell them to stop?"

"No," Lizzie said. Like it was that easy.

"What if you tried to tell people how you feel when they say things that make you uncomfortable?"

"I don't know," Lizzie said. "I don't like to make waves."

"This is not exactly the most wave-making thing I can think of," Mrs. Weinstock said. "Did you worry about making waves before?"

"Sometimes," Lizzie said. Though it really wasn't that often, if she was being honest. "My family is—"

"What?"

"Like a hurricane."

"Uh-huh," Mrs. Weinstock said. "And you don't want to add to the mess?"

Lizzie nodded.

"You have a right to speak up for yourself," Mrs. Weinstock said. "From what you've told me, it sounds like your family and friends want to know how you're feeling and want to make you feel better. I believe you told me that they drive you crazy with questions."

"Yep."

"So maybe it's okay to tell them. Do you think you can try?"

"Yeah," Lizzie said.

"So what else is on your mind," Mrs. Weinstock asked.

Lizzie told her all about what they were supposed to find out that day and exactly how nuts it was driving her.

"Especially since Casey took my phone," Lizzie said. "Sometimes I think she wants me to go postal."

"Maybe she wanted you to try to focus on other things?"

"Look how well it's working," Lizzie said.

The bell rang.

"That's lunch at least," Mrs. Weinstock said.

"Yep," Lizzie said. "Lunch. Only lunch."

"Yeah, but it's Sloppy Joe day," Mrs. Weinstock said, mock brightly. She was trying to make Lizzie smile, so Lizzie obliged. "There might even be tater tots. I gotta start bringing my lunch because, EW."

In the cafeteria, Operation Distract Lizzie continued. Sometimes she really did love her friends.

As it turned out, Jamie was a fan of the tater tot. He and Brooke tried to build Tot Henge on a tray in the middle of the table. They got pretty far, but then Jamie got hungry.

"Before you say anything," Jamie said. "This is not playing with my food."

"Really?"

"Really," Jamie said. "This is presentation. _This_ is creativity." He popped a tot into his mouth.

"This needs ketchup," he finished.

"We need to get Edwin back for introducing him to the Food Network," Brooke said. She gestured at their slightly diminished henge. "_Presentation_."

"What?" Jamie said. "Just because I'll do anything Giada deLaurentis tells me to do..."

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "I'm sure she works with tater tots all the time."

"The caff's a little short on asiago, okay?" Jamie said. "What _is_ asiago, by the way?"

"Cheese," Lizzie said. "I guess that proves that you don't pay much attention to the actual food, do you?"

"What's your point?" Jamie said.

"That you're a pig," Brooke said.

"I'm a teenage boy," Jamie said. "And what's so bad about crushing on a beautiful woman who knows how to cook and who's smarter and makes _way_ more money than me?"

"Aww," Brooke said, putting her arm around him. "You're so full of crap." With the other hand, she took a tot from the henge.

"Lizzieee," Jamie sang. He really shouldn't do that. "The tots are calling youuuu." He grabbed one and waggled it in front of her nose. "Heeere comes the chooochooooo!"

"Jamie."

"Chugga-chugga," Jamie said.

Lizzie wanted to be mad.

"Choo chooooo!"

People were looking at him, but he kept doing it until finally she laughed and he gave up and popped the potato thingee into his own mouth.

"Eat yours before I tell Edwin on you," Jamie said gesturing with a spork.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, _someone_'s gotta take the reins when Papa Bear Number One is away," Jamie said. "And Papa Bear Number Two...well, we're glad we don't have lunch with _him_, aren't we?"

"Derek doesn't seem so bad," Brooke said. There was no question whom Jamie was talking about.

"Oh yeah?" Lizzie said. "Wait'll we tell him that Jamie doesn't think he's Papa Bear Number One."

"Well, don't _tell_ him, Jeez!" Jamie said.

Lizzie worked on her Sloppy Joe while Brooke and Jamie did their best to make her forget what was likely going on in court right then.

Of course Lizzie's mind kept going back to it and whenever it did and she got quiet, they'd do something. Brooke crossed her eyes. Jamie choo-chooed. They were great, but it also made her a little sad because there was this whole air of filling in for Edwin and his silliness and Lizzie worried that Jamie and Brooke would be exhausted by the end of the day. But she didn't want them to stop. She tried to think of a way she could properly describe what they did later that day so that Edwin could have a good laugh, too. He was probably getting antsy, too.

_It would,_ she thought with her teeth clenched, _have been nice to text him._ Even if he couldn't give her any news, it would have been good to see how he was.

But mainly, she wanted information.

And then she didn't. The closer she got to the end of the day, the less she wanted the day to end. She didn't need to know anything. As far as she was concerned, whoever said that knowledge was power was working on a purely theoretical level. People were still hovering over her. She had escorts to and from class. She didn't even get to go to the bathroom alone. Not that she often went to the ladies' alone, but at least there'd been the option of going alone before. But, for now, she was getting used to it.

The bell rang and her stomach dropped. Again, Brooke and Jamie stuck to her as she gathered her stuff and went to her locker. There—surprise surprise—were Casey and Derek.

"Fancy meeting _you_ here," Derek said. Lizzie gave him her best stone face, which was much better than his, incidentally, and it cracked him up.

"Nice to see that you're in a better mood," Derek said. It might have been sarcasm, but she actually was in a better mood than she'd been that morning. That didn't mean that she was about to smile or anything.

"Choooo-chooooo," Jamie said quietly and that made her lose it.

"Cheese and crackers, Jamie!" Lizzie said.

"Cheese and crackers?" Derek said. "Did you just say—"

"It's a Jamie-ism," Brooke said. "If I explain you might bleed from the ears, so—"

"Okay," Derek said. "Thanks for sparing me, then."

"Aaanyway," Casey said. "I'm guessing you want this back?" She handed Lizzie's phone back.

"Bet you changed your display picture, didn't you?" Lizzie asked.

"I had a weird look on my face in the one you had," Casey said. Derek nodded.

Lizzie checked her messages but there weren't any. She looked up at Casey.

"We didn't get any messages either," Casey said.

"I think my Dad's trying to drive us crazy," Derek said.

"He _said_ he wasn't going to call," Casey said.

"Yeah, but who knew he'd stick to that," Derek said. "Let's go though. I need some cookies."

Cookies didn't sound like a bad idea at all. And maybe Lizzie thought, she could talk Derek into some Babe Raider 3 before he had to go to work. Then Edwin and the 'rents would come home with the news and she could go ahead and freak out if she needed to.

After Derek left for work, his head hanging in defeat, Lizzie sat down to do the little bit of homework she hadn't done in Study Hall, but her mind was elsewhere. She knew that there were two ways that the arraignment could go. Either the guy (Jason McAdams, she'd found out his name, but really tried hard not to think of him as a Jason) took the plea deal or he didn't. Neither option was exactly pleasant. If he didn't take the deal, Lizzie would have to testify and relive the whole thing in front of people, even if she just did it on tape like George said she could, it sounded awful.

Still, Lizzie wasn't sure that she should hope for the deal either. A plea bargain meant that the guy could get out in a couple of years, maybe sooner. She didn't know the terms of the deal they were offering, but in theory, her attacker could get out and come after her again.

But such thoughts did not go well with all the cookies she just ate.

She did a half-assed job of her last three or four algebra problems and played some computer solitaire, thinking of nothing except where the damn Queen of Diamonds was until she heard Edwin coming upstairs.

She made it to her doorway at the same time he reached the top of the stairs. Then they just stood there.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"How'd it go today?" Edwin asked.

"Two words: Tot Henge," Lizzie said.

"Aww, man, I missed tater tot day?" Edwin said. He came up and put his arms around her.

"'Fraid so," Lizzie said. "And how was your day, dear?"

Edwin snorted. "Can't. Feel. My cheeks."

"Which ones?"

"Ew!" Edwin said. "You've been hanging around Brooke too long."

"It turns into _Lord of the Flies_ when you're not there," Lizzie said. "Who knew you'd be the one to keep us in line?"

"Heh," Edwin said. "Good one."

"I thought so," Lizzie said.

"So," Edwin began. "Dad called Nora at lunch."

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "I figured."

"Well, um..."

"I don't wanna know yet," Lizzie said. "George is gonna be back soon enough, and I figure the news is gonna suck either way, so how bout we not talk about it?"

"It's not gonna suck," Edwin said. Lizzie looked at him.

"Okay," he admitted. "It's gonna suck for a while, but not forever."

"Really really missed you today," Lizzie said.

Part Three: Edwin.

When Nora's phone went off, Edwin's heart stopped for a second. He and Nora looked at each other and she picked up.

"Georgie?" she said. Then there was a series of "uh-huhs" which made Edwin want to scream the way Derek yelled at the TV during hockey season.

Then Nora handed Edwin the phone.

"Um hello?"

"Hey," Dad said. "Still alive over there?"

"Sorta," Edwin said. He paused. "Um, Dad?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna tell me what the hell's going on over there?!"

His Dad sighed. Always a bad sign. "Surprisingly enough, he took the plea."

Edwin let out the breath that he'd been holding. "Okay."

"Turns out, they finally realized that there was no way he was getting off, what with the witnesses and the evidence they got off Lizzie in the hospital."

"Okay," Edwin said. "Are we happy about this?"

"I think so," George said. "The judge on the case isn't exactly the slap on the wrist type, if you know what I mean. He's not getting off easy. I don't know everything yet, but we'll all talk about it later, okay?"

"Yeah," Edwin said.

He'd never felt more relieved in his life at that point, but after a few hours and a little more thought, he was able to see why Lizzie was scared of both options. Edwin didn't have the knight in shining armor gene, but he could help her, somehow. How remained to be seen, but he could help.

It wasn't that long before Dad came home. When he came in, he and Lizzie were trying to watch a movie, but Edwin couldn't follow it, and he guessed Lizzie couldn't either.

"Oh God," Lizzie said when Dad pulled up into the driveway. She gripped Edwin's arm and he tried not to wince.

"It's okay," Edwin said.

"Uh huh," Lizzie said, nodding and taking a breath.

"Did you tell her?" Dad asked, first thing.

"No," Edwin said.

"I just didn't want you to text her in _class,_" Dad said.

"I know," Edwin said.

"I didn't wanna know right away," Lizzie said.

"Okay, well," Dad began. Nora and Casey trickled in from the kitchen even though Edwin was sure that Casey'd heard the news by then. "He took the plea."

Lizzie nodded.

"So you don't have to testify," Dad said. He perched on the edge of the recliner and started to explain the terms of the deal. Basically, the guy was going to juvie for at least three, if not five years. He could have, if convicted, gone to regular jail for that time if not longer. That was what had done the trick, the thought of being tried as an adult. But, his Dad kept emphasizing, either way, that part of the whole mess was over.

Lizzie cried a little, maybe out of relief, it was too soon to tell, but Edwin knew enough not to let go of her while she did.


	13. Chapter 13

Closet Monsters

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life With Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirteen.

Part One: Lizzie.

It was another week before Lizzie was allowed to take gym class, and even then she had to show up with a doctor's note. It took three or four classes before anyone would toss a basketball to her. Jamie had been the first to try, but he hadn't been blessed with the gift of eye-hand coordination (and he needed glasses). So he missed her completely, and almost hit Danielle Richards in the face. Danielle caught it, barely, and passed it to Teddy, who finally passed it to Lizzie. And then Lizzie made a three point shot.

That felt better than anything had felt in weeks. Better than her new phone (which had proved to be so much cooler than the old one had ever been). Better even than sneaking downstairs early in the morning and swiping the last of Derek's stash of marshmallow cream and making a fluffernutter before he could catch her (another thing she'd pulled off that day).

Still, it hadn't occurred to her that she was having a good day until she was in the locker room, changing. It hadn't been some big revelation, more of a huh moment. She'd been thinking of borrowing Casey's blue nail polish. It went with a top that Lizzie's Mom had picked up for her over the weekend.

"Thought you could use some spring stuff," she'd said, not bringing up the outfit that had needed replacing. Lizzie hadn't brought it up either, but she'd thought about it. She'd half-consciously gone back to her more tomboyish stuff, trying not to hide herself, necessarily, but to pick out clothes that she could run in, in case the need arose.

When she got home, she asked Casey about the nail polish.

Casey's eyes got big. "Really?" she said her mouth full. "Yeah!" She put down the apple slice she'd been munching on and took a second to finish chewing. "You can _have_ it, if you want."

"Um."

"You know what would be cool?" Casey asked. "We should have a girls' night. Mani-pedis, chick flicks, the whole thing!"

"Simmer down, Head Case," Derek said, head briefly emerging from the fridge. He looked over at Lizzie.

"What?" Lizzie asked him. He shrugged and shook his head, pretending that he wasn't checking up on her. He was being all protective and that was a good thing, but it was also starting to bug her, just a little.

"Can I pick the movie?" she asked. Lizzie loved Casey, but if she let her pick the movie, there'd be Jane Austen from here to the end of the world. One could only take so much period drama.

Casey quit glaring at Derek just long enough to say "Of course!" just a little too brightly, proving that Derek was right and she did indeed need to simmer down.

_Should've waited for Ed to get out of detention,_ she thought. She'd been planning to do just that, but Edwin had put one hand on each of her shoulders, stared at her seriously, and said, "Go forth, young Elizabeth. Go forth and watch the afternoon television that the rest of us cannot."

Even Mrs. Pummelman laughed before she shooed him into the detention room and shut the door.

But really, Lizzie couldn't even watch a Law and Order rerun without Casey wondering if it would be too soon, too upsetting, a trigger of some sort. Derek came into the room with an overloaded bowl of popcorn. He sat down in his chair, ignoring the dirty look Casey gave him.

"Derek," Casey said.

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm not going to find a microwave popcorn bag on the counter, am I?"

"Of course not," Derek said.

Casey, being Casey, got up to check, letting out a frustrated growl when she got into the kitchen.

"I think it might be in the sink, actually," Derek told Lizzie.

"Derek," Lizzie sighed.

"What'd she ask me?" Derek asked. Then he rolled his eyes. "It got her off the subject of triggers and crap, right?" When she continued to stare him down, he said, "No one's asking her to clean up after me. She just does it." He held the popcorn out to her and she took a handful, not pretending to be anything but grateful.

When Casey came back in, she grabbed the popcorn bowl away and announced that it was hers now, part of her fee for cleaning up after PigPen. Wrestling ensued. Kernels everywhere. Lizzie took the opportunity to pick up the remote while their backs were turned and began channel surfing.

"Wait," Casey said from somewhere under Derek. "Wait-wait-wait."

"What?" Derek asked.

"Stop."

"Huh?"

"STOP!"

"Okay! Okay!" he said, clambering off the couch. "What the hell?"

Casey's eyes cut over to where Lizzie was sitting. Derek's followed. Casey's eyes were huge and guilty, Derek's a little more guilty, a little less worried.

Because obviously they couldn't mess around without Lizzie having a flashback, triggering some PTSD that Lizzie didn't really have. Sometimes it really seemed like they'd never stop tiptoeing around her, and that caused her blood pressure to rise. She felt her face getting hot.

"Look at the mess you just made, McDonald!" Derek said, thinking fast, gesturing at all the popcorn. "Jeez! Can't take you anywhere!"

Lizzie'd been about to yell. Now she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Was she more mad at Casey for acting like she was some ticking time bomb, or was she mad at Derek for defusing her? Or did she just want to laugh?

They kept bickering, the way they always did, and Liz stopped paying attention. They sounded like nothing she needed to concern herself with. Their fights were always the same, and they always ended with something needing to be vacuumed.

Meanwhile, Liz was still hungry and they'd just wasted all the popcorn.

"It's like you were raised in a barn!" Casey said. "No manners, Venturi!"

Manners...

_I said 'wussup'. What's your problem?_

_I'm talking to you—in the flowery thing. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?_

Casey touched Lizzie's arm and next thing Lizzie knew, Casey was holding her mouth. Because Lizzie'd hit her in the face.

Part Two: Edwin.

To say that Edwin had come home to more chaos than usual that day was an understatement. Lizzie was back to apologizing and crying almost non-stop.

Derek explained what had happened, that Casey had gone to touch Lizzie at the wrong moment and Lizzie panicked and elbowed her in the face, sort of like when she'd shoved Derek into the wall.

Now Lizzie didn't want to go near anyone because what if it happened again. What if she hit Marti?

"This is not okay," Lizzie kept saying and she mumbled things about getting locked up.

Edwin followed her upstairs, doing his best to keep what he thought was a non-threatening distance. He sat on his stairs.

"Liz," Edwin said. "Come here."

She stood in her doorway.

"Feel like sitting down?" he asked, patting the spot next to him. She shook her head.

"Okay," Edwin said.

"So," Lizzie said. "You're about to tell me everything's gonna be okay, right?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"You're full of it, " Lizzie snapped. Then her chin started quivering and she moved to sit down on the floor in front of her room. "What do I do?"

"We're gonna go to counseling," Edwin said. "If you want, maybe Dad can see if he can move the appointment up. If that'd make you feel better. But that's it. That's what we need to do."

Over the next few weeks, Lizzie did better. There were flare ups and fights all over the place, but truth be told, these couldn't really be called unusual. They lived in one loud, fight-y house.

Lizzie did stuff that made Nora and Casey worry, like dye her hair blond with blue streaks at the beginning of the summer (Edwin thought it was the single hottest thing he'd ever seen,) .

Out of boredom, Lizzie took up a few new sports, like running, dragging Casey to the track at the high school every morning. She tried to get Edwin to come with, but he couldn't drag himself out of bed at 6am on a summer morning for love or money. He did end up getting dragged to the gym with her, though.

No matter how much he protested that the human body, specifically _his_ human body, was not meant to twist into yoga positions, Lizzie's word was law. It was good for them, she said. It was soothing, she said.

It was excruciating, he said. She couldn't exactly disagree. She was only a little less achy than he was.

"We just need to stay with it," Lizzie said. "Casey says it gets easier."

He had the idea that maybe they could discuss getting her back into Taekwondo. Their emphasis was on discipline and self-defense after all, not really violence. Maybe enough time had passed.

"I'm sure Nora still has that guy's number. What was his name? Biff?"

"Skip, I think," Edwin said.

"Skip," Dad said. "Maybe he could give us some ideas."

"He's really gonna want Lizzie back," Edwin said.

"Yeah," Dad said. "But, tell ya what, I think Lizzie wants to come back."

"She's not a yoga kind of a girl," Edwin agreed.

"And you're not a yoga kind of a guy," Dad said, reading his mind.

It turned out to be a stupid idea.

"No!" Lizzie said, when he brought it up. "Are you kidding me? Absolutely not!"

"Sure you don't want to think it over?" he asked.

"Positive," Lizzie said. "There is no way I'm going back to taekwondo. Not now. I thought we went through this already. I'm not doing it."

"Okay," Edwin said. "If that's what you want. I just thought that you didn't seem happy with the other stuff you were doing."

"It's too dangerous," Lizzie said. "Dr. Simpson said that I need to channel my energy into something that makes me feel confident and that helps me to feel calmer. I can't get triggered again and knock someone's teeth out. Or worse."

Edwin hadn't really thought of that.

_Guess it's a good thing I'm not in charge, huh?_ He thought. It was really hard to figure out what was going to be a trigger. She was fine with cop shows and violent movies but would shake if she smelled leftover fish when it was her turn to throw out the garbage.

She also refused to wear shoes she couldn't run in and got nervous whenever Casey and Nora wore heels to go places with her.

The family learned not to question this, just like they learned not to touch her when she seemed upset, to talk to her instead. Derek and Casey had also needed to be taught not to hover so much. That, like everything else was an ongoing process, especially since Casey kept denying that she did any such thing. Derek didn't deny that he hovered; he just didn't think that there was anything wrong with that. That hovering was his duty as an older brother.

So, yeah.

Process.

In the end Liz stuck with yoga, while Edwin worked his way through every class the gym offered. He tried boxing for about a minute, losing interest when they reminded him that he was going to have to spar with people. The difference between people and the punching bag he liked so much was that people could get hurt. This was something he didn't want to have to worry about and something he especially didn't want Lizzie to have to worry about on his behalf. Anyway, people hit back. So that was out.

He did ask his Dad about the possibility of getting a punching bag for the garage, though. A red one, preferably.

He worked his way through other classes from Capoeira to Tae bo to Zumba and back to channel surfing where he really felt he belonged.

As the summer wore on, Edwin figured that there were less things to worry about. They all continued with counseling and that seemed to help, but Dad and Nora kept repeating that it was going to be an ongoing thing. That it could take years.

Edwin figured they had time. Though Lizzie wasn't really a fan of waiting, he could be patient.

FIN.


End file.
